


Heart burns when I see your face

by Captain_Mercurian



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben is an overgrown baby, Ben is in love with Rey for a bit but its pretty much out of loneliness, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Enemies to Lovers, Hurt, Hux needs some hugs, Jealousy, Jedi Ben Solo, Knights of Ren - Freeform, Lore!Luke, M/M, Misunderstanding, Pining, Prince Armitage Hux, Prince Ben Solo, Rey has like 3 pretty short scenes so no worries Anti-Reylos, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Snoke Being a Dick, They actually do shit here, luke is not a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 102,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22213075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Mercurian/pseuds/Captain_Mercurian
Summary: “We're not very good at this whole marriage business, are we?”There was the tiniest hint of humour laced into those words, cushioning the sting of the reminder that yes, they kriffing sucked at this.“We're really not.”“Sometimes, I wanted to kill you,” Armitage confessed and it hit him like a punch to the gut when there was nothing but honesty coming off of him. “It would have freed me of you without risking war. I don't know why I didn't.”A lie.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Temporary Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 828
Kudos: 778





	1. Tell me, why am I emotional

Ben was 12 years old when Luke told him that the war with Arkanis had ended. Even though he didn't know much about the politics involving the issue, he was very well aware of the fact that no one had been talking about any battle victories for months now. Especially his mother had been tight-lipped about the whole thing during their rare holochats and he had no other way of getting any kind of information, trapped as he was inside the Jedi temple. Until now, he had assumed that she didn't want to upset him by confessing that Alderaan was losing.

It had been safe to assume that they were, what with the look on Luke's face and lack of any real answers every time he inquired about the battles. He was a hard man to read, even with their connection through the force, but there was something in his eyes as well as a hidden part of his mind that made Ben's chest constrict around his heart.

Unstable as his mind and connection to the force was, he wouldn't put it past them to try and keep distressing information from him.

They didn't understand that their distrust made him even angrier.

“We lost?”

Luke shook his head but he didn't look like a man about to announce a victory either.

“Empress Leeya has been assassinated,” was what he finally said, his voice sounding grim and defeated. “A usurper has taken over her throne in the Arkanis sector. The people of the Outer Rim don't seem displeased with the development and the new Emperor reached out to your mother for diplomatic talks.”

From all the scenarios that Ben had begun to picture in his head, this wasn't one of them.

“A usurper?” he repeated, disbelieving. Empress Leeya had had a tight hold on the Regency Worlds for decades. Despite her old age, she had been a force to reckon with and had resisted joining the New Republic, even after the Empire had fallen. It was a shock to hear that someone like her could just be killed and replaced without any of her people batting an eye.

“Yes. Admiral Hux. A popular figure among the higher ranks of the Arkanis military, as it seems, though, I couldn't tell you why.”

Normally, Luke's dry and subtle sense of humour would at least elicit a huff from Ben, but he was too surprised by what he was being told. From all the ways, the Empress could have been killed while at war with Alderaan, he hadn't thought that it would be through the hand of one of her own. She hadn't either.

“What now?” he asked, still trying to wrap his head around this new development. “When will the diplomatic talks start?”

Luke seemed to hesitate for a moment, his aura gently washing over Ben's mind like an apology for what information was to come.

“They already did.” He paused. “And they came to an agreement.”

“What? Already?”  
“It did seem rather swift, yes, but they did. Your mother isn't quite happy but peace comes before all else.”

Something in the way Luke phrased it, irked him. Slowly, a terrible sense of foreboding crept into his bones and it only worsened when he felt that Luke was trying to calm him through the force.

“What did they agree to?” he pressed when there was no further elaboration forthcoming. “I doubt that this new Emperor wants to give the reigns over to the New Republic.”

“You're right, he won't. They found another way to connect our realms without stripping Arkanis of its sovereignty.”

His feet felt cold at the way Luke was looking at him.

“What did mother agree to?”

Another wave of calm. It only provoked his temper even further.

“Stop trying to manipulate me and just _**tell**_ _me_!”  
His uncle's face hardened for a second until he finally relented.

“You are to marry his son, Armitage Hux, once you come of age.”

The ground seemed to crumble underneath his feet as he processed what he had just been told. Ben had been sold like an animal, to the son of a usurper Emperor, by his own mother. Breathing was almost impossible once the feeling of helplessness, betrayal, rejection and hot, hot fury settled into his mind and took over.

Luke had to force-sedate him to stop him from setting the garden on fire.

After all, the grass had just begun to regrow.

His return to the palace was nothing like he had imagined it would be while still under the impression that he was to become a Jedi – selfless, solitary and _celibate_. (Oh, the irony that he would now prefer the life of a monk over what had come to be his fate.)

Ben had imagined returning at 21, his training complete, clad in Jedi robes, his padawan braid freshly cut. He would have been exactly like his mother wanted him to be: Strong. Controlled. _Worthy_. Maybe, she would have reinstated him as her heir and he could have been free of the chains of the temple. Maybe, he could have fallen in love and married on his own terms. Maybe, he could have been _good_ at last.

Instead, he was still a child, his training a difficult and messy process, wearing a light padawan tunic, black braid gently swaying in the wind as he and Luke made their way through the palace gardens to the open gate, inviting them in. He was unstable, angry and afraid.

Of course, it was C3PO greeting them at the door instead of the Queen herself. Ben clenched his teeth to stop himself from directing his disappointment and ire at that walking golden android. Ignoring whatever it was that C3PO rambled, especially when he wouldn't stop calling him “Prince Ben” as if he hadn't been 'temporarily' scratched from the line of succession. It might turn into a permanent thing if he made a scene now and refused to marry the Bastard son of a man who _murdered_ his Empress.

The insult.

Brendol Hux had three children and he chose a male, and to top it off, _illegitimate_ one as his spouse. His mother must have been desperate if she managed to put her pride aside to agree to that. He also wondered how he was supposed to produce an heir. There were methods, of course, but they were neither natural, nor traditional, and Ben thought the mere idea of creating a human artificially inside a lab distasteful.

Ever since Luke had to deliver the news, he had monitored Ben even more than before as if he were afraid of him trying to run away. Or do something worse. He was aware that Luke saw something inside him, something frightening. And knowing that, made him scared of himself, of the dark in his mind.

He wondered if his fiancé knew what kind of person he was engaged to.

If he would be afraid of him, too.

When they entered the Great Hall, he felt his mother before he saw her. Her, and a group of strangers. Fixing his gaze on them, he found them to look just as depressing as their auras.

They stood even straighter than before when they noticed him and Luke approaching them and Ben wondered which one of them was to be his husband someday. Somehow, he had expected a boy his age but there was no child among them. His heart dropped.

His mother finally spoke up: “May I introduce my brother, Luke Skywalker, and my son, Ben Organa-Solo?”

Of course, she didn't even greet him.

A very tall man with red hair and cold eyes stepped forward. He wore a black military uniform underneath an equally black Greatcoat, shiny knee-high leather boots, and a military cap. The only bit of colour on him, apart from the red of his hair, was the light blue emblem of Arkanis on his chest and the insignia on his sleeve. Despite not being dressed like one, he knew immediately that this was the new Emperor.

“The last Jedi Master,” Admiral Hux said, his voice just as cold and crisp as his gaze when he turned his attention towards them. “It is an honour to meet you.” Luke merely nodded in acknowledgment. Then he looked at Ben. “Prince Ben Organa. I hear you are quite the force wielder yourself.”

It annoyed him that he had foregone the 'Solo' when saying his name but he did his best to keep his temper in check. The slight condescension in his voice when referring to him being a Jedi didn't help either. He copied Luke and merely nodded.

Emperor Hux seemed displeased. Good.

“Armitage.” Ben almost flinched at the commanding tone and his gaze swept immediately to the young man stepping forward. “This is my son, Armitage Hux, Prince of Arkanis, dux student in Engineering, Marksmanship, Commanding and Military Strategy at the Arkanis Academy and youngest lieutenant in the entire Outer Rim.”

Ben barely listened to what Emperor Hux was saying.

Armitage was beautiful.

Never, in his entire life, had Ben found anyone beautiful. He could recognize if a girl was pretty or if a boy could be called good-looking but he never actively thought anyone to be attractive.

Luke told him that was normal. He was 12, after all.

But now he knew what the older Padawans had talked about when lamenting their celibacy and waxing poetry about someone they liked. Suddenly, the pulsing darkness in his mind stilled and something else emerged. Something like hope.

Because Armitage Hux looked like a fairy tale prince – He was almost as tall as his father, his body slender but clearly athletic underneath his own black military uniform that seemed freshly pressed, severe in its lines and quite flattering with the belt accentuating the contrast between the width of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist. His skin was almost paperwhite, like porcelain, his hair vibrant and red like fire, neatly combed and held in place with pomade. Ben couldn't make out the exact colour of his eyes, yet – maybe they were green, maybe they were blue - but his lashes looked pale and he wondered if they were long. Armitage was young, so his cheekbones didn't look as sharp and intimating as his father's but he could already see that this particular softness in his face wouldn't last much longer. Ben wouldn't mind, because it would fit right in with the elegant sharpness of his nose, a contrast to his lush, red lips and the delicacy of his chin.

Armitage Hux looked like a fairy tale prince, regal and dignified, hands clasped behind his back, military cap tucked underneath his armpit. He didn't look like the illegitimate son of a usurper. He looked like someone born for the throne.

Unlike him.

The deal made sense now. Suddenly, he understood why his mother had accepted the offer of marrying her son off to the bastard child of a man that had gained his status through an assassination. He could picture her looking at Armitage for the first time and seeing what Ben himself saw, what she had wanted to see in her own son but never did, what Alderaan needed once she could rule no longer.

It stung a bit. But it didn't change the fact that his heart was racing in his chest when Armitage looked at him and their eyes met. When he bowed gracefully, offering him one of his gloved hands, the other still held behind his back. Nervously, he put his suddenly sweaty hand in his and he felt himself turning beet-red when his knuckles were kissed delicately.

He couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him so gently.

“It is an honour to meet you,” Armitage said and even though these were the same words that his father had directed to Luke and the same crisp accent from the Arkanis sector, it felt completely different. His voice wasn't particularly deep, even a bit soft, but it was confident and he longed for him to say his name. Somehow, he doubted that Armitage would fail to call him by his entire name.

Ben knew that he was supposed to answer but he felt that if he opened his mouth now, something humiliating would leave his lips. A croak or a stutter or something that would make him sound stupid in front of this man that he desperately wished to impress.

So he nodded. Armitage let go of his hand.

It felt like a mistake.

Dinner was a sombre affair. The Emperor was hardly charming and Ben remembered when Luke told him that he didn't understand how this man was considered popular. Honestly, he didn't, either. His blonde, thin wife was just as unpleasant and when Armitage's older, handsome, blond brother, Brendol IV., opened his mouth, he felt infinitely grateful to not be engaged to _that_ one. The sister was just as arrogant, which was a shame because she looked nice with the strawberry-blonde hair, round blue eyes, and her tiny nose. Her voice sounded just like the Emperors: Condescending.

Not a single Hux talked to Armitage.

Or Ben, for that matter. But he was 12 and not interested in talking to a bunch of adults, either. Except for Armitage. He didn't mind that he was older than him. Their exact age difference eluded him but they wouldn't marry until Ben was finished with his training, either way. Those 9 years suddenly felt like an eternity. Obviously, he wasn't interested in kisses and the like, but looking at Armitage was such a pleasant thing to do that he already dreaded their separation. Maybe, he could keep a holopic. After all, the rules of the Jedi didn't apply to him anymore. He was engaged, he now was allowed – expected even – to be attached to someone. Luke seemed worried about how this was going to affect their training but Ben was confident. Maybe, he could try and finish even earlier, so they could get married faster because then he could look at Armitage for the rest of his life.

So caught up with the sight of Armitage's long, naked fingers handling his cutlery with grace, Ben almost didn't hear him talk: “I heard that you are a Jedi.”

Ben almost failed to answer because he was so surprised.

“No,” he blurted out and was mortified when it came out sounding like a snap. To his utter relief, Armitage didn't react at all. Instead, he just looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I'm a Padawan.”  
“An apprentice of sorts?”  
“Yes,” he confirmed. Bit his lip. And then added: “I will never be a Jedi now.”  
That seemed to surprise Armitage and he cocked his head, silently asking 'Why?' without uttering a single word.

“Jedis don't marry,” he explained, frowning a bit because he thought that the no-attachment rule was stupid and sad, to begin with. Why would anyone want to be alone? Why would anyone choose not to love? For him, love was all he ever wanted. “I have to marry you. So, I can't be a Jedi.”

Armitage looked at him, neutral, gaze unreadable. His eyes looked blue in the artificial light.

“I see,” was all he said and didn't talk to him for the rest of the evening.

Ben didn't mind too much. After all, he could still look at him.

His mother finally greeted him when their guests had gone to their chambers.

“I'm so sorry, Ben,” she whispered against his skin after kissing his temple. “They arrived earlier than expected. If I had known, I would have told Luke to come earlier, so we could have a moment for ourselves.”  
A warm smile graced her face as she tenderly touched his braid and took in his clean, beige Padawan tunic, pants, and soft leather boots.

“My, my, you have grown.”

A part of Ben wanted to fall into her touch, wanted contact and affection, wanted to hug her and tell her that he missed her. But the part of him that was angry and bitter about this being the first time in 3 years that he had personally seen her, that she had not even greeted him upon his arrival – Guests or not – that she just sold him to be a husband to a man who was exactly what she had wanted him to be like.

It didn't matter that he thought Armitage was beautiful and he now looked forward to marrying him.

She would've forced him to go through with it, even if he didn't.

So, he stepped back with a slight sneer, jerking his head away when she tried to touch his cheek.

“I don't want to talk to you,” was all he said before escaping the room, pretty much running to his bedroom. It looked sterile. His furniture was still there but his toys and clothes were gone. He remembered that he destroyed most of his toys when father had told him that he needed to go to the Jedi temple to get his powers under control. And the clothes wouldn't have fit him anymore, either way.

It still stung to be in his childhood bedroom when it looked like he had never lived here at all.

Not even ten minutes later, he was re-exploring the rest of the palace. It was as huge as he remembered – Clean with a very light colour scheme, just a bit of gold here and there, but not enough to seem opulent. Every room was neat and minimalistic, bright-looking even at night.

It was utterly boring.

When he made his way to the East Wing, he felt a little nervous. The Huxes were here, he could feel them with the force. None of them had the slightest bit of sensitivity to it but they still had very strong presences. Especially the Emperor. And Armitage. There was another one, though. One he hadn't sensed while in the Great Hall or at dinner. Curiosity peaked and hoping to catch a glimpse of the handsome prince before going to bed, he opened the door to the corridor leading to the guest rooms. Finding his intended took barely 2 minutes.

The door wasn't closed and he dared to peak inside, hiding in the darkness of the corridor behind him with the force.

Armitage stood by a bookshelf, still in his uniform, looking at the titles and drinking amber coloured liquid from a short glass. The strange presence was there, too. It was an intimidatingly tall woman with blonde short hair, also dressed in uniform. She looked like she was in her early 20s and there was a concerned look at her face. Ben felt a pang of envy. He had no friends to look concerned for his sake.

“What will you do?” she asked as she poured herself some of the same liquid that Armitage was drinking.

His shoulders seemed tense and he was shaking his head as he turned his attention to her and away from the bookshelves. With one long gulp, his glass was empty, pale brows pinched.

“Nothing,” he sighed, sounding defeated and tired. “I can do anything. I should have been suspicious when father had me naturalised all of a sudden. It was foolish of me to believe that he did so because he was impressed with my hard work.”  
“He should be proud,” the woman said and Ben couldn't agree more. He remembered only vaguely what his father had been droning about during the introduction but he did recall him being the youngest lieutenant in the Outer Rim. Ben didn't even really know him but he already felt proud to be his future husband.

“Father will never be proud of me, no matter what I do. My naturalisation served a purpose,” he sneered and even though it wasn't a pretty facial expression, Armitage still looked beautiful. “He can now simultaneously get rid of me, have his regency secured by the New Republic through Alderaan and ensure that I will never follow in his footsteps as Emperor. I might not even be allowed to remain in the Arkanian military.”

There was pain emitting from him. Familiar pain. Pain that Ben knew all too well.

They were the same.

Ben's heart jumped.

“Maybe this will be a good thing, Hux,” the woman said as she walked to him and refilled his empty glass. “Your family is trash all around. Maybe this one is better. The planet certainly is. I've never seen so much sunlight in my life. It's a nice change. There's always rain in Arkanis.”  
“I like the rain,” Armitage mumbled before taking a sip, his eyes focused on a spot on the floor, clearly thinking about something. Ben wanted to reach out and hear it but he didn't dare to do it. He wasn't as good at it as Luke was and even though none of the people here had any sensitivity to the force, they might feel the foreign presence in their head. “And I didn't see much of a family. Just an aloof Queen, an absent King-Consort, a hermit playing monk-knight and the child I'm supposed to marry.”

This wasn't a family, that was true. But hearing him reject them stung – Not to mention the way he had said _child_. Ben understood, though. Armitage was already an adult. Ben barely reached his chest, despite being pretty tall for his age. 9 years was a long time for both of them. Now, he felt even more determined to finish his training as soon as humanly possible. If he put his back into it, cooperated better and focused on his goal, he could make it at 18 or 19. Preferably 18.

 _6 years_ , he wanted to project but tried to hold himself back. It was difficult, though, because his entire being wanted to reach out to Armitage, wanted to tell him that he would hurry, that he needn't be lonely for long. Ben would grow up and he would be strong and controlled and _worthy_.

“He won't be a child for long. You're just five years ahead of him. Wait until he's 14 or 15 and you'll see him grow like a weed. Boys tend to do that.”

Armitage was 17 – Truth be told, he had seemed older than that, but it made sense. He was in the military and his family was a pile of mean bantha shit. That was bound to age you.

He didn't expect him to sneer at her words.

“Well, let's hope his ears and nose already had their growth spurts, or I will exile myself to the guest room for the rest of my life.”

His heart stopped beating and his feet went cold.

No. No, he couldn't have-

“The kid's not a looker, true, but he isn't hideous, either,” the woman said in a voice that was clearly meant to _soothe_ Armitage. “Besides, he's very young. Puberty might change a few things.”

At that, Armitage laughed and it was the cruelest sound in the entire world.

“You didn't see him up close. There is no way any of that is going to come together and not look hideous. It's all mismatched and asymmetric. To top it off, he's a tiny monk playing at being a _Jedi_.”

Condescending. Like his father. Like his sister.

Ben was ugly to him. Hideous.

He hadn't seen himself in a mirror for quite some time since there weren't any in the temple. Truth be told, Ben hardly knew what he looked like.

Now he never wanted to.

He's _hideous_.

“I heard, he's going to be a very powerful force user when his training is complete.”  
Armitage huffed.

“You believe in that nonsense? I, for my part, have no interest in magic tricks. With any luck, we will marry, I'll go back to my troops and he goes back to his little temple with those ridiculous robes. Peace is secured, I'll climb the ranks and he meditates or whatever. He won't be King anyway.”  
“What?”  
“Didn't you hear? He was scratched from the line of succession. Queen Organa will choose an heir. Someone-”  
He didn't want to hear anymore. He couldn't. His body was trembling from anger and disappointment and if he was in the temple, he would probably resort to destroying everything he could get his hands on. Because he was hideous and unworthy and this curse that is the force, is a _magic trick_.

Ben didn't notice that the entire ground was shaking until Armitage stopped talking to stare the liquid in his glass as it moved.

“What is that?” the woman asked.

Ben never heard the answer, because right then, he decided to leave.

Armitage was no fairy tale prince.

The hope, his short-lived infatuation had sparked, died and he could feel the darkness in his mind come back to life, beckoning him to set the entire palace on fire.

The flames would be beautiful and so very red.

Like Armitage's hair.

He won't complete his training at 21. Instead, he will delay the day of their wedding as much as possible and pray that Admiral Hux will be assassinated and replaced by another, that the contract is annulled and Ben will be free.

He didn't ponder why he didn't fantasize about Armitage himself to die.

Luckily, it didn't take Luke much convincing to leave the palace early. Ben didn't know what he would have done if he had to face the man that had rejected him just like anyone else.

9 or more years of hope. Hope, that he will never have to marry Armitage Hux.


	2. When I knew it from the start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben bids farewell to his life within the temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I read up a lot of Star Wars lore for this chapter regarding the trials but decided against boring you with a detailed telling and kept it quite short.  
> The Luke in this fic is quite different from the Sequel movie's Luke because I think that the one in Episode 7-9 is shit. I tried to portray him the way he is described in the lore and what would make sense for me from how Luke started off in Episode 4-6. I think that Luke's attitude towards Ben would have made all the difference in his youth. The movies made a dick out of Luke to fit their plot and I resent that with all my heart.  
> I hope you enjoy my version of Luke! And I apologize for the lack of Armitage, I promise that he will be very much present in all of the following chapters! Rey will only make one or two more appearances but obviously, Kylux is the main pairing :)  
> Enjoy!

The blonde woman had been right – By the time, Ben turned 16, he had gone through three almost frightening grow spurts. His mind had been struggling to keep up with the ever-changing length of his limbs, the increase in muscle strength and his expanding access to the force. All these changes made him clumsy and yet, his peers still couldn't keep up with him in fights. Several times, combat and duel training had to be broken off because Ben was close to seriously injuring his sparring partners.

It didn't help that they were terrified of him. He could feel their fear pulsing in the force around him at all times and during fights, it was almost unbearable.

Ben Solo, the Monster.

Breathing heavily and feeling the sweat pooling between his shoulder blades, he stared at the Padawan before him as she crawled away from him, radiating pure fear and desperation. He could feel Luke's eyes on him. Ben turned his training lightsaber off, regret and frustration making him nauseous as he watched her struggle to get back on her feet and brush past Luke, shaking and clearly about to burst into tears. It wasn't an uncommon reaction for his peers after having to duel with him.

Luke extended his hand once his nephew approached him and accepted the training lightsaber with a nod.

“I think, we should talk, Ben.”  
Great.

Nodding, he followed him through the temple. Padawans stared at him. They had probably seen Vue crying.

“Sit,” Luke instructed when they entered the Hall of Meditation and they sat cross-legged in front of each other. They had a lot of these talks over the years – about Ben's nightmares, about his solitude, about his engagement, about his feelings towards his parents, the Jedi temple and himself. Some were good, some were bad and some ended up with Luke force-sedating him.

The latter had always been a rare occurrence, and it hadn't been necessary for over a year now.

Ben was trying.

“Your energy appears disturbed,” he started, his voice as gentle and calming as ever, the blue of his eyes neither cold nor warm. Luke had long since stopped trying to manipulate his moods through the force. “Want to talk about it?”  
No, he really didn't, but he was also aware that he couldn't postpone this conversation forever. His control has been slipping for some time, now, and he knew that his energy was off. On the one hand, he was grateful that Luke had tried to wait for him to seek help himself, and on the other, he resented the fact that he needed help at all and had to be called to another session of Master-Padawan-Therapy.

Vue's frightened face stared up at him from his inner eye.

He did need help.

“Their fear,” he whispered, staring at the ground between him and his uncle. “It's everywhere. When I walk down the halls, when we meditate in groups, when we eat or sleep in the same room and, especially, when we spar. It's throwing me off. They don't know it, but they are projecting their feelings to me, and my survival instinct kicks off. I know that it is not my own fear but I can't control it.”

The hall is silent as Luke seems to think his words over. He always does that.

“You have a very heightened sensitivity to the force,” he told him as if he didn't already know and Ben had to clench his jaw, to not snap something sarcastic. “And your mind is disturbed. I can feel that you haven't been sleeping again and that your meditations were quite short the past few weeks.”

There was no worse place to be in, at the moment, than his head. It felt like a nightmarish maze – His thoughts were going around in circles, bumping against dead-ends and then ended up making him feel even worse. So, no, he hadn't been meditating.

And sleep – Sleep was impossible. Sleep meant facing the voice inside his head, the whispers coming from the darkness.

“You can't ignore away your demons. You have to face them.”

“Easy to say when they're not yours.”

Shit. He hadn't meant to say that.

Luke seemed unbothered, though. There was even something like a smile twinkling in his eyes, even though his mouth was relaxed in deceptive neutrality. He could feel a hint of affection through the force. It made his cheeks warm and he had to look back at the ground. Ben didn't know how to handle affection.

“You are a highly emotional boy, Ben,” Luke said, not unkindly, and it made his shoulders tense up in apprehension of the critical words to come. “From what I've been told from your namesake back when I was young, your grandfather had been the same.”

Grandfather. Darth Vader. Of course, he would be compared to the family monster. His feelings toward him were mixed. Sometimes, he imagined how easy it would be to kill every single Padawan in the temple, just like he had done. They were no competition for him. The only person, he had yet to best, was Luke Skywalker himself. He doubted that he would ever get controlled enough for that.

He didn't want to, though. He didn't want their fears to be proven right. He didn't want to be him.

“And he fell to the dark side, I know,” he droned out, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. “I'm not like that. I will never- I will not.”

Luke's gaze was soft and sad. The force rippled with emotion, he was all too familiar with. Something inside Ben broke.

“No matter what I do, I am always compared to him,” he started, his voice trembling as the anger inside his chest slowly bubbled up to the surface. “The other Padawans, mother and father and even you – You all see Darth Vader when you look at me! They sent me away from home because they were scared of me – their own son – and you- You are just the same! I can feel your fear, I can feel it right now!”

They looked at each other.

Luke laughed.

He was stunned into silence as he stared at his uncle who was only ever prone to smiling when Han was around and usually carried himself with great calm and control when it came to his emotions. Confusion engulfed his mind, snuffed out the anger and he waited for Luke to get a hold of himself. When he finally did, there was still amusement glittering in his eyes. The affection was also still there.

“You seem to operate under a grave misconception, Ben,” was what he finally said, his voice still filled with humour but also a little bit of sadness. “You may be gifted and your control is not where it should be yet, but to think that I'm afraid of you – a 16-year-old Padawan – is, quite frankly, ridiculous.”

At that, he didn't know if he should be relieved or insulted. His brows knit together as he felt through the force, now unsure of what he had thought to be true.

“But I can feel it. The fear in your energy.”  
“I'm not afraid of you, Ben,” Luke repeated, kinder this time. “I'm afraid _for_ you. That's different.”

He blinked.

“What?”

“When I compared you to your grandfather, I didn't mean to imply that you were evil, Ben,” he explained, slowly and softly, sending waves of sincerity to smother all of his doubts. “I know, it is difficult to comprehend, but Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker were not the same person. They shared a body, but, ultimately, they were fundamentally different people. They were the embodiments of darkness and light. We are all creatures of both. There is as much darkness in you and me as in everyone else. Anakin, the man, was of a good heart. But he was like you: Deeply emotional, and yet, not in tune with his feelings. Prone to anger. Prone to attachment. His environment failed him. Darth Vader was the product of many mistakes made by the Jedi Council and the sinister genius of Chancellor Palpatine. But, in the end, Anakin was still the Chosen One. The one, who brought balance to the force, when he saved my life and died for it.”

His lips parted in surprise and he realised only then, that he had started to lean forward, hanging on to every word Luke said. This was the first time that anyone was willing to talk to him about his grandfather. He now realised how little he knew about him. How little the world knew.  
“I didn't know that,” he whispered, staring at Luke as if had never seen him before. “That he saved your life. It was said that it was you who defeated Palpatine.”

“Your mother –“ Luke started and Ben had to resist from sighing and mumbling something along the lines of 'Why am I not surprised.' “She didn't want anyone to know back then. In truth, she never fully accepted our parentage. And it was easier to tell people that I defeated the Sith than to explain to the universe that Darth Vader – a man who murdered countless people – was the Chosen One. That, in the end, he wasn't a Sith anymore.”

“Can you just stop being a Sith?”  
“I'm not very knowledgable when it comes to the Old Jedi Order and the Sith, but I know this: The Sith had golden eyes. When your grandfather was dying, he asked me to remove his helmet. His eyes were blue, Ben.”

Blue. Blue like Luke's.

He had seen holo pictures of Anakin Skywalker. It was difficult to imagine a man of such tragic beauty caged inside the armour of Darth Vader.

“It is a mistake to believe that you can only be light or dark, Ben,” Luke continued, nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “The moment you split your soul into Ben Solo and another, you lose a part of yourself. I can't teach you to use the Dark Side of the force. I haven't been trained for it. There were force-wielders capable of both but I'm afraid that they are all long gone. Going that route without a Master to lead you is dangerous. For anyone. Not just you.”

He hadn't realised that he was trembling until Luke reached forward and touched one of his hands, that had been curled into fists, in an uncharacteristic expression of comfort and love.

“Do you-” His voice broke. “Do you think I could- fall?”

Luke smiled. There were little crinkles around his eyes.

“Everybody is capable of falling to the Dark Side, Ben. But, in turn, everybody is capable of returning to the Light.”

Calmness washed over him. And this time it didn't come from Luke.

“You are Ben Organa-Solo,” Luke proclaimed, his voice steady, full of strength and yet also full of comfort. “The Prince of Alderaan. A Padawan of the Jedi Order. The Grandson of Anakin Skywalker - The Chosen One that brought balance to the force. The son of my sister and best friend. And, most importantly, you are my nephew. And my favourite student. But don't tell the others.”

A wet laugh left his mouth as he sat there, his hand underneath Luke's, shaking like a little child and- And crying. His cheeks were wet and he had to press his lips together to stop them from trembling.

“Never discard your name, Ben. Because, in doing so, you forget who you are.” Luke told him with the softest of voices. He never looked so utterly human before. “Always remember that I love you. And that I would fight until my dying breath to take you home if you ever should fall.”

Luke tugged at his hand and Ben followed. It was the first hug he had gotten ever since his father had left him at the temple.

The next day, he didn't even come close to losing control during his sparring match.

A month later, Luke brought a new student to the temple; a girl of approximately 14 years that he had found on a mission in Jakku.

Her name was Rey and when she saw him for the first time, she smiled at him. She wasn't afraid when he stood in front of her, looming without intending to. She wasn't afraid when he overmatched her during their sparring. She wasn't even afraid when he got angry and hacked a tree to pieces with his training lightsaber, yelling, until Luke force-sedated him.

When she kissed him for the first time, a year later, he fell. Not to the Dark Side – But into something just as forbidden.

She forgot that she was supposed to be celibate.

He forgot that he was promised to another.

Ben hadn't seen Armitage Hux ever since that day in the palace. If it was up to him, he would never have to see him again.

Because to Rey, he wasn't hideous. And to him, she was fearless.

A few weeks after he turned 21, everything changed.

J'Gun, a young Padawan, came to his room, staring at Ben with huge, fearful eyes.

“Master Luke sent me,” he mumbled, his gaze nervously flickering between him and Rey, who was lounging on his bed, reading a book. Their relationship was an open secret by now. For a while, he had been afraid every time he was summoned to his uncle, dreading the inevitable 'It is against the rules of the Order and you are engaged to a Prince”-Talk. It has been years now, though, and Luke never said a word despite clearly knowing about it. He didn't dare ponder about why that was. “He told me to tell you that you should dress for a mission and meet him at the Shuttle Bay.”

Ben was on his feet before the kid could even finish his sentence and he closed the door in front of the boy's nose with a push from the force, already diving for his battle robes.  
Rey watched him with amusement as he stripped out of his brown exercise attire and kicked his boots to the other side of the room.  
“Slow down, you knobhead, Master Luke won't leave without you,” she laughed, her eyes following his every move, clearly appreciative of his muscles flexing underneath his skin as he put on the black pants that were a lot tighter than the traditional Jedi robes. Everything he wore was a lot tighter than the traditional Jedi Robes, more clean-cut, almost military. The New Jedi Order was far more lenient when it came to their attire and Ben himself could always defend his peculiar choices by bringing up that he won't ever be an actual Jedi.

Rey told him he looked like an attractive bat when he wore his chosen robes for the first time.

Luke had just made a face at him.

“It could be urgent,” he said when he closed the belt around his waist and smiled when he saw that she was already holding his gloves. “Thank you.”

When he reached for them, though, she tucked her arms behind her back.

“Give me a kiss first.”

A huff left his lips, but he placed his hands on the bed, next to her hips and leaned down, his dark hair falling over them as he obeyed her order. He snatched the gloves from behind her back and she squealed when he gave her a gentle bite on her long neck before withdrawing.

“I'll be back soon,” he promised as he put on his gloves, black, like the rest of his attire. “Don't mess up my room.”

Her laugh followed him to the corridor when he made for the stairs, hurrying to the Shuttle Bay.

Luke stood in front of one of the newer models that had arrived two months earlier, arms crossed behind his back. When Ben reached him, Luke gave him a rare smile.

“Where are we going?” he asked, excited to get to leave the temple again. Missions were his favourite part of the Padawan training, especially, since he got to use real lightsabers then.

“You,” Luke said and even though his voice was calm and even a little amused at Ben's eagerness, he could feel a tinge of sadness and regret through the force. “Are going to the Massassi temple.”

The smile died on his face.

“You are ready.”

No. No, he wasn't. He wasn't ready – Not for the Jedi Trials, not for leaving his home, not for leaving Rey and especially not for marrying _Armitage kriffing Hux_.

“I-” His voice broke and he took a step back, his feet feeling cold and heavy. “No. I'm not- The other Padawans are only allowed to the Trials at 23.”

It was a weak argument and he knew it.

“Other Padawans start proper Padawantraining at the age of 13,” Luke reminded him, patient and calm as if he was trying to soothe him. “You were 11. And, quite frankly, you have been ready for over two years now. I waited to give you more time to... prepare.”

He waited to give him more time for happiness.

It wasn't what he said but it was what he meant, he knew that even without force-reading his thoughts. Ben was exceptionally good at doing that, completely undetected. Luke had made him promise to use that skill wisely and not to abuse it.

“The goal of the trial, as you know, is to test your Skill, Courage, Flesh, Spirit, and Insight. If you succeed, you will find the parts you need to build your own lightsaber.”

A part of him was excited – The part that wanted to prove himself, that wanted his very own lightsaber and couldn't wait to be knighted. But most of him was shocked, desperate, grieving, dreading and feeling utterly helpless.

“Luke-”  
“She will understand. You both knew that this was going to happen from the very beginning. Rey is strong and intelligent; she knows that the peace between our realm and the Arkanis sector depends on this marriage.”

Luke took a step closer.

“I can feel that you're hurting, Ben,” he said and he could see that this pained his uncle, too. “And I'm sorry. I wish things were different.”

He did, too.

They hadn't hugged since the day that he told him that he loved him. It felt strange, now that Ben was so much taller than Luke.

Without another word, he forced himself to enter the shuttle.

Despite wanting to be angry, he couldn't bring himself to even yell for having been robbed of saying farewell to Rey properly, because he knew, that he would have taken her and run if he had been warned even a minute beforehand.

Ben couldn't be selfish now, not when the peace between two kingdoms was at stake.

As a boy, he had promised to himself that by 21, he would be different.

Strong, controlled, worthy.

That was what he had to be now.

The trial lasted almost a week. At the end of it, he built himself a crossguard lightsaber and used a blue corusca gem that he had picked up during his Trial of the Spirit as his Kyber crystal. When the blue blade ignited to life for the first time, his breath caught.

It almost soothed his heartbreak. Almost.

But it did make him feel better about the scar he had acquired from a training droid.

The shuttle didn't land in the Shuttle Bay as he had expected. It landed on the plain field, a mile away from the temple. When the doors opened and he stepped unto the grass, he could feel tiny droplets of rain falling from the sky. They weren't enough to make him wet, but he did worry about the black drying bacta he had used to cover up the cut on his face and neck.

He could see figures standing in front of the temple.

Fantastic. More training droids.

Taking a deep breath, he walked over the field, trying to get a feel on how slippery the ground was with the rain dampening the earth, his eyes never leaving the line of training droids that ignited their lightsabers upon seeing him.

Planting his feet, he stood tall as his gaze flickered upwards to the temple. There, on every balcony, were people; most of them Padawans, looking on with excitement. He noticed immediately that Rey wasn't among them and tried to ignore the pang of hurt and longing. Instead, he felt his chest constrict with a sense of coldness when he spotted Luke with his parents - and the Huxes.

He couldn't make out their faces, in fact, he could barely tell which one of the redheaded men was Armitage. His guess would be the on the left, standing next to Luke.

Anger that he hadn't felt that intensely for years simmered underneath his skin and he clenched his jaw as he refocused his gaze back to the training droids, waiting for him to come closer and start the fight. With slow, almost lazy steps, he approached them. The droid closest to him made its move.

He felt powerful when the blue of his lightsaber lit up, the Corusca gem making it look like it had a furnace within it, blocking the green blade with ease. The second, their blades parted, Ben went in, raining blow after blow on the droid in criss-cross motions, each more aggressive than the last, forcing the droid to move backward and loose its footing. The second it touched the ground, Ben stabbed it in the chest, both hands curled around the handle of his lightsaber.

Swiftly, two droids charged towards him from either side and he drew the blade out of the metal, spinning as he jumped to deflect the attacks, beheading one of the droids in one swift motion and sending another flying off with a hard push from the force.

The third survived only seconds longer, managing to block two of Ben's brutal blows before losing its weapon and ending up impaled on a sizzling, blue blade. His dark loose hair and the braid on his temple whipped against his face as he turned once again, tossing the spiked droid against the one trying to attack him from behind.

25 droids littered the field when Ben was done.

Cheers erupted from the balconies from the Padawans – His family and the Huxes were clapping except for Luke and both gingers.

But Luke was smiling. He couldn't see it from the distance but he felt it through their connection.

Ben couldn't help from preening a bit as he made his way to the temple.

He really wished that he could wash and change his robes before going to the Great Hall, but he knew that he was expected right away. At least, it wasn't obvious which droplets and wet strands were caused by rain or sweat and grease. There was nothing he could do about the smell, though.

When he reached the door, they were opened for him from the inside by two droids from the palace.

It felt like a Deja-Vu when he saw his mother standing on the left and the Huxes on the right in a neat row, in front of the open balcony. The only difference was his father by the Queen's side and Luke standing in the middle of the Hall.

His gaze landed on Armitage Hux straight away and their eyes locked.

He was still kriffing beautiful.

And he had been right, back then – Now, his cheekbones were as sharp as his fathers, the youthful softness gone. He was even taller than all those years ago and it was obvious from his uniform that he had indeed managed to climb the ranks of the military. From the insignia on his sleeve, he would guess either Major or Colonel. Hands clasped behind his ramrod-straight back, delicate chin held high and feet securely planted as if in preparation for an attack, he looked just like he remembered him.

Only now, Ben's body felt the sting of attraction just as intensely as his mind.

He hated himself.

“Come closer, Padawan,” Luke said, his voice professional and seemingly detached, but Ben could feel the pride he felt rippling through the force. That alone made him tear his gaze away from his intended and focus on his Master instead. When he reached him, Luke's eyes smiled at him. “Kneel.”

Slowly, he bent the knee, still looking at Luke, his elbow leaning on his thigh.

“You have passed the Trial of Skill, the Trial of Courage, the Trial of Flesh, the Trial of Spirit and the Trial of Insight. You have fought, conquered your fears, bled, faced the darkness within yourself and learnt to rely not on your eyes and its illusions but on the force to see the truth.”

His heart was pounding inside his chest as his mind finally started to realise that this was it – This was the end of Ben, the Padawan. The end of his training under a Master.

He knew that he was only replacing one cage with another once he moved from the temple back to the palace, but at that moment, he felt like he was about to be given freedom.

Luke ignited his lightsaber, the green of his sleek, steady blade lighting up Ben's face.

“You have proven yourself worthy, Ben Organa-Solo.”  
Luke took his braid and lifted it to separate it from the rest of his hair.

With one, swift motion, it was cut off of him.

Ben felt so much lighter.

“Rise, Jedi Knight.”

His thighs burned when he stood with as much grace as he could muster, looking at Luke, trying to commit this exact moment to memory for the rest of his life.

“Your destiny does not lie within the Jedi Order, Ben,” Luke proclaimed, not without regret. “But that doesn't make you any less of a knight. Maybe, someday, you might return to repeat the trials to become a Jedi Master of your own right. But for now, let me tell you that it was an honour to train you.”  
“As it was to be trained by you,” he managed to say, quietly, but all the more sincere. “Thank you, Luke.”

  
This time, Luke's mouth smiled just as much as his eyes and Ben could have sworn that they looked wet, just a step behind shedding a tear, as he bid him farewell: “May the Force be with you, Ben.”

His chest felt simultaneously warm and cold, torn between happiness and sadness.

“And with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, Ben's Jedi robes are pretty much identical to Kylo Ren's outfit because Adam Driver looks fucking hot in it!


	3. Taking up your space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Armitage finally face each other and the tension between them thickens by the second.

The Great Hall felt infinitely colder, the second Luke left it.

All eyes were on him and no one seemed to know what to say and if it was their place to initiate a conversation, at all. Ben, for his part, didn't want to talk to any of them.

His mother was the first to finally approach him when he remained standing where he was, the excitement and pride of his knighting giving way to hopelessness and heartbreak at the prospect of leaving the temple and the one he actually wanted to marry. When she smiled at him, he felt nothing but bitterness, and he had to force himself to not jerk away from her touch once she laid her hand on his cheek, stroking the skin softly with the dry pad of her thumb.

“You have grown into a fine man, Ben,” she told him and he almost scoffed when he felt pride emitting off her. All his life, he had wanted for her to acknowledge him and be proud of him – but he didn't feel like he thought he would. There was no sense of completeness, no joy upon seeing the pleased look in her eyes. The only thing coming to his mind was: _No thanks to you_.

He didn't want to leave with her. Luke had been more of a parent to him than both her and his father combined. At least, Han seemed to be aware of his place in Ben's life because while he came closer, he didn't reach out to touch him as if that was something they did.

“Good job, kid,” was what he said, one of his careless grins plastered on his face. “You did well down there.”

Ben nodded. It became clear very fast that the conversation had already run its course and it had only been three sentences.

His gaze flickered back to the Huxes – to Armitage, who hadn't moved at all ever since he entered the room. Their eyes locked immediately which meant that he had been watching Ben.

Since his face was completely impassive, he could only wonder whether or not he was judging his looks once again. Ben could only guess what his verdict was, especially with how terrible he must look after an entire week spent in a dusty, cold temple, fighting droids and illusions, meditating and exploring the grounds in search of his lightsaber parts. His wet hair and the wound on his face, covered in crumbling bacta stripes, probably didn't help either. Another wave of bitterness washed over him, paired with the petty need to make Armitage as uncomfortable as possible.

“Excuse me, mother,” he said politely and finally stepped out of her touch to make his way to the Huxes.

Emperor Hux still looked more like an admiral than anything else but was dressed a little fancier than before, with silver ornaments stitched into his uniform jacket and a dark blue cape draped around his shoulders, pinned into place with a very expensive looking brooch. His hair was kept short and there was already a little grey showing in between the red.

“May I congratulate you on your knighthood, Prince Organa?” he asked as he stepped forward, probably under the assumption that Ben had meant to approach him instead of his fiancé. Unsurprisingly, he didn't find any patience in himself to indulge a man he didn't care about at all.

“You may,” was all he said before moving around him to come to a halt before Prince Armitage Hux.

The eyes, that hadn't left Ben even for a second, were blue with a hint of green and grey.

They stood in silence for a moment, taking each other in as if appraising produce before purchase. As if they had any choice in this. They wouldn't be here if that was the case – Armitage would probably be roaming the halls of a starship, fucking whoever he actually deemed attractive and Ben would be putting a ring on Rey's finger.

Neither revealed their opinion on the other.

Armitage broke the silence first.

“It is a pleasure to see you again,” was what he said, almost identical in phrasing and tone to his first words towards Ben 9 years ago. His voice didn't sound all that different, only the slightest bit deeper. Still soft, the Arkanian accent as lovely as ever. No emotion was betrayed and this time, Ben knew better than to take his words at face value. “And I, too, congratulate you on your newly acquired knighthood, Prince Organa-Solo.” Finally, someone addressing him by his full name. “Or is it Sir Organa-Solo now?”  
The lack of facial expression and emotion in his words made it hard to figure out whether or not it was meant as a condescending jibe at the fact that Ben had yet to be reinstated as the heir of the Alderaanian throne. From past experience with his intended, he was pretty sure that it was just that: An underhanded insult.

“Ben is fine,” he told him, just as expressionless, his gaze unwavering. “After all, we are engaged, Prince Armitage Hux. Or is it Colonel now?” It was probably childish to imitate him but he couldn't help himself. From the way, his upper lip twitched for a second, Armitage noticed.

“General,” he corrected, lifting his chin, the line of his shoulders tense underneath the dark, heavy-looking greatcoat. “Hux is fine.”

It was both irritating and comforting to know that his fiancé was just as childish as he was. However, he couldn't help feeling offended, yet again, that he was only offered the man's surname, impersonal and detached. His lips twitched as he clenched his jaw for a second, before forcing himself to relax again.  
“That won't be your name for much longer, I'm afraid,” Ben reminded him and almost smirked when those blue eyes finally wavered for a split second.

“No, it won't be,” he agreed and yet didn't offer any other name to call him by. Ben felt like yelling in his face.

Armitage kriffing Hux was undoing all of his training in a matter of minutes.

Properly irritated, Ben let his eyes sweep over the man in front of him – intentionally slow to make sure that it was noticed. From the knee-high leather boots, over the impeccable uniform, back to Armitage's handsome face. Once he reached his eyes again, Ben took a deliberate step closer.

He was only slightly taller than his fiancé, but he was exceptionally broader and he made every single inch count as he loomed over him. Armitage even lifted his chin just a tiny bit more, his elegant nose twitching from the stench that clung to Ben. It was immensely pleasing to see that he could rattle him in any way at all.

“You were taller in my memory,” he remarked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he saw those pale brows draw together. Armitage tensed even more and the neutral mask that had been unwavering up to this point seemed to finally crack a bit. His voice was sharper, the accent crisp, as he replied with: “Well, and you were shorter in mine. I might be wrong but I was pretty sure that is how time works.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Ben whispered, his voice barely more than a deep rumble. “Some things don't change.”

There was something like confusion in his eyes – Curiosity, maybe. Armitage's head tipped the slightest bit to the right, like a cat, thinking his words over. When his red, red lips parted to talk, a voice interrupted them.

“Well, _you_ certainly did!” Brendol IV. chimed in, uninvited, baring his white teeth with a dishonest smile when Ben turned his head to look at him with a glare. “Last time anybody got to see you, you were a twig of a boy and now look at you. Fighting like a real Jedi! Armitage was very impressed!”

His brows shot up at that last statement and when he looked back at his fiancée, he found the slightest hint of red creeping from his neck to his face in what could either be embarrassment or anger – or both. Brendol IV. seemed like an idiot, so Ben wouldn't put it past him to talk bantha shit for the sole purpose of ridiculing his half-brother. Still, a tiny, hopeful part wondered if it was true. If Armitage _was_ impressed - if he could have possibly changed his mind.

“You were trained well,” Armitage offered, diplomatically, the coldness in his voice contrasting the slowly fading blotches of red on his pale skin. Ben blinked in disbelief. Was that an actual compliment coming from the man? “As a man of the military, I can appreciate a skilled sword wielder.” It certainly sounded like one. “Even if the opponents were merely droids.”

He should've guessed.

His upper lip twitched and he could feel a muscle jump in his jaw.

“ _Merely_ droids?” he finally asked, not bothering to cover up his offence this time. “Those training droids are highly advanced, programmed with techniques used by the greatest Jedis and Siths in the past. They are also much stronger than humans.”  
Armitage seemed unaffected and his voice was calm as he said: “No droid, no matter how well designed and programmed, can ever replace human wit. Their knowledge and range of responses are forever limited, while a talented human has an infinite arsenal of creativity and spontaneity.”

Ben barely noticed that he had stepped even closer, invading the man's personal bubble without a second thought. Armitage didn't even tense up. His stare remained blank and his cheeks had returned to their original, ivory colour. The confidence in his face and stance reminded him of Rey.

 _Fearless_.

How unfortunate that he had actually meant to scare him.

“If I had fought humans,” Ben breathed, fully aware of how bad he must smell after starving for an entire week and hoping for another one of those nose twitches. He was pleased when he got one. “They would be dead.”

“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” he replied, nonchalantly, as he leaned into him. “I _have_ read your mission reports.”

Taken aback, he narrowed his eyes, as he asked, almost accusingly: “You were keeping tabs on me?”

“Obviously,” Armitage huffed as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It would have been, had there been actual feelings between them, but as it was, he suspected that his fiancé had simply hoped to read about his demise in one of those reports. “If I am forbidden contact with my intended because 'attachments are a distraction in a Jedi's training', I am at least informing myself about their whereabouts and health at appropriate intervals.”

 _Forbidden_. It had been Ben's request back then and Luke had indulged him this once, accepting the reasoning Armitage had just quoted back to him word for word. He hoped that no word had gotten out about his relationship to Rey, because then, his lie would have been exposed for what it was: A mere excuse to not have to see the beautiful face of a man who had rejected him, calling him _hideous_.

“Seeing as you weren't aware of my current military rank, it is probably safe to assume that you haven't inquired about me in return,” he concluded, his voice not betraying any form of offence or disappointment, even though his words might imply just that.

“I haven't,” he confirmed with honesty as he didn't see the point of lying about his disinterest in Armitage's 'whereabouts and health'. “A Padawan can't afford any distractions.”

And he had forgotten about his entire existence at times – Especially when buried balls-deep inside Rey, hands tangled in her long brown hair and tasting her sweat as she moaned into his ear, telling him that he was _gorgeous_.

This wasn't the time to think about sex. Especially not while standing pretty much nose to nose to a man he felt equally attracted to and repulsed by.

“Good thing, you aren't a Padawan anymore, then,” Armitage stated with confidence, his gaze unwavering.

“Yes,” he agreed with a slight hiss, his words sounding as dishonest as the smile on Brendol IV.'s face. “A good thing, indeed.”

“I don't want to interrupt your, erm, _intense_ reunion, son,” Han chimed in from somewhere behind him, sounding about as uncomfortable as the expression on the Huxes' faces. “But we should get going. Chewie is waiting on board of the Falcon and your mother had a welcoming dinner prepared back home.”

Finally stepping back, he was pleased to see Armitage relax just the tiniest bit. So he had been tense, after all.

“I'll go get my things,” he announced, already turning towards the door.

His mother touched him by the elbow when he was about to pass by her, her face soft and sad. “There's no need. We already arranged a new wardrobe for you.”  
Of course. Just like she had removed every single toy and piece of clothing of his childhood bedroom, back when he was abandoned at the temple, she expected him to just leave his belongings behind as if they weren't part of his identity.

Her hand fell from his arm when she saw the anger in his eyes.

“You shouldn't have bothered,” he told her, his voice hard and not leaving any room for any contradictions on her part. “I am a knight. I will dress like one.”

With that, he left the room, walking brusquely as he made his way to his chambers. He hoped to find Rey there, waiting for him. Rey with her adoring eyes, gentle hands, bright laugh, and unconditional love. Maybe she wanted a proper goodbye, maybe she would even want one last tryst in the sheets or at least one last passionate and loving kiss.

The thought of her waiting for him, naked and crying and longing for his touch, made him quicken his steps.

His room was empty.

When he felt for her through the force, he couldn't find her in the entire temple.

It was probably better this way.

Swallowing his disappointment and holding back the tears that threatened to leave his eyes at the thought of never seeing her again, he undressed on the way to his bathroom. He knew that there was a shower on board of the Falcon that he could have used, but he couldn't endure even another minute of the stench and dirt on him.

Water supplies were limited at the temple but he indulged himself this once as he washed himself with scorching hot water, his skin reddening immediately as he scrubbed it with soap, almost brutally. The physical pain made it easier for him to bear the emotional one.

He was a lot gentler with his hair when he washed it, scratching at the scalp and feeling for the short strand in between his locks where his Padawan braid used to be.

The spark of pride inside his chest soothed him a bit.

When he was finished and dressed, he packed his things. The black robes, even the dirty ones, the little trinkets Rey had brought for him on her missions – Pretty stones or books, a silver locket pendant with a strand of her hair inside it, and a sleeping gown, he had never given back to her. Even now, it made his ears go red with shame since he had been using it to jerk off when she was away.

He probably wouldn't be able to, anymore. The sight of it was more painful than erotic now.

When he stepped to the door, he turned one last time to look at his room, to bathe in the memories he had made inside of it. His first kiss, the loss of his virginity, hugs and laughter and quiet evenings spent in companionable silence.

His heart ached as he closed the door and finally made his way to the Shuttle Bay. The Padawans he passed bid him farewell and wished him luck for his future and he couldn't help but be touched by them making the effort despite his distant behaviour towards them in the past.

It was both disappointing and relieving that he didn't see Luke again. After all, they had already said goodbye to one another and Ben feared that he would end up crying, after all. No, he wasn't going to let anyone see him that vulnerable ever again. Luke and Rey had earned the privilege to be witnesses to his weakest of moments and he wasn't going to see either of them for a while.

Luke may come to his wedding. He hoped, he would.

Stepping unto the Falcon, he was immediately swept into a bear hug by Chewie.

“Chewie, no-” he laughed, swatting at his furry back as he tried to wriggle out of his embrace. Chewbacca merely answered with one of his infamous howls. “I'm glad to see you, too, big boy.”

When he was finally freed, he was still smiling.

Until he saw Armitage standing on the bridge, staring at him with the strangest of expressions. Luke had made him promise to not abuse his skills in mind reading but he couldn't help reaching out with the force, anxious and curious about what that look might mean.

He was met with a mind barrier – And a strong one at that.

Scowling, Ben realised that Armitage had probably arrived at the temple shortly after Ben had left for his trials and that Luke had taught him to keep his thoughts hidden from him.

Of course, Ben could easily breach the barrier – Armitage had zero skills when it came to the force – but that would be disrespectful on a cosmic level.

If he wanted his thoughts to remain hidden, he probably had a reason for it.

Maybe, he was thinking about how hideous he looked, even when clean.

“There you are, son,” Han exclaimed jollily, looking him over. “Was about time. But it definitely paid off. Doesn't he clean up nicely, Armie?”  
Armitage cringed, though, it was hard to say if it was because of the insinuation that Ben could be in any way good-looking to him or the hilariously terrible nickname. On moments like this, he almost liked his father.

“The smell has most certainly improved,” was all he said before turning on his heel and walking towards a tall woman, Ben recognised as the one from the palace 9 years ago. She had hardly changed at all, from the shortness of her hair to the concerned look on her face when she looked at Armitage. They were probably seeking privacy, so Armitage could once again lament his fiancé's lack of attractiveness and get comforted by her as if being married to him was a cause for great suffering.

“Your guy has quite the stick up his ass,” Han noted with good humour once the pair was gone but there was also a little pity in his eyes.

Ben grunted in agreement.

“He thinks I'm ugly,” is what he said, surprising himself by telling his father that particular information. They weren't close enough for heart-to-heart-talks but the need to talk about it to _someone_ was almost overwhelming at that moment.

Han looked surprised before he made the 'You're an idiot'-face that Ben vaguely remembered from his childhood when he saw his father talking to Royals and politicians because his wife had forced him to do so.

“Was I hallucinating or did you not see his face back there?” he asked, grinning when he noticed the confusion on his son's face. “Kid, he stared at you the entire time from the second he even saw you coming out of that shuttle and then stared even more, when you walked into the hall. And when you two started bickering, I was this close to suggesting that you two get yourself a room because I really, really don't want to see my child getting jumped by some horny ginger.”  
Ben's mouth opened in disbelief and horror.

“What the kriff are you talking about?”

“I may be old, son,” Han started, now properly amused but also like he couldn't believe that he had to explain something so obvious to him. “But that only makes me all the wiser. I know attraction when I see it and I can promise you that Armitage was a second away from throwing himself at you.”

Heat crawled into his face and ears and Ben shook his head, disbelieving and mortified of hearing his father talk about how much his fiancé supposedly wanted to fuck him. It wasn't true – It couldn't be. Back in the temple, there hadn't been a flicker of anything that would have suggested anything even close to attraction. There had only been coldness and antagonistic words thrown at him with unbearable aloofness.

“That's absolute bantha shit,” Ben whisper-hissed, embarrassed to his bones when even Chewie looked at him as if he was stupid. “I heard him say that he found me hideous. He certainly _doesn't_ want to do anything of what you just implied.”  
Han didn't look convinced.

“If you say so, kid,” he said, shaking his head a little. “Whatever his feelings towards you are – You clearly liked what you saw, didn't you?”

Ben couldn't help but tense up, his gaze flickering to the floor before he mumbled: “It doesn't matter if I like his looks. I won't ever fall in love with a man who is more robot than human. My heart already belongs to another and now I won't ever see her again because mother sold me like cattle.”

The grin died on his father's face.

“I'm sorry, son,” he whispered, the shame on his face obvious and heart-wrenching. “Your mother-”  
“You should get us out of here,” Ben interrupted him, feeling tired all of a sudden. “There's a welcoming dinner waiting for us, after all.”  
Han nodded, relieved and sad all at once.

“Yes. Yes, you're right.”

Ben spent the entire flight in the engine room, clutching the bag with his meagre belongings from the temple to his chest like a child holding a toy.

He hated himself and Han for the spark of hope inside his chest.

Maybe some things _did_ change.


	4. The places we've been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's personal hell has only started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like how this one turned out but if I don't plow ahead, I won't make it till the end of this - so bear with me, please!  
> I want to thank all of you wonderful people who leave comments, they make my day and motivate me to write even when I'm sick like I am right now. (Dress warm and don't forget your Vitamine C or you'll end up like me, people!)  
> Btw., I made a short Kylux video. The link will be in the endnote, I hope you'll check it out!  
> Try to have fun with this terrible chapter!

The 'welcoming dinner' was more of a banquet and exactly the kind of political hell that Ben had dreaded it to be. People that he had never seen in his life or didn't remember meeting during his early childhood in the palace, were overly eager to get his attention and blow smoke up his arse. Those poor bastards were probably under the impression that they were talking to a king-to-be. It made him extremely uncomfortable, especially when the older women felt the urge to tell him _how handsome_ he had become and that they would have loved to introduce him to their daughters if he wasn't engaged already. One or two of them didn't care and forced their daughters to try and talk to him anyway but to no avail. He wouldn't have been interested even if he was unattached. Politics and its society were abhorrent to him and he longed for the beautiful silence of Luke's Jedi Temple, the nature around and the calm energies of his fellow Padawans. Here and now, everything was loud and overwhelming and he hadn't even _seen_ any food ever since he left the Millenium Falcon. There must have been something somewhere but every time he made a step into any direction at all, he found himself swept up in another bout of greetings and titles and compliments and expressions of regret when they inevitably reminded him that he was to marry Armitage Hux.

Right this second, he was once again trapped in such an inane conversation.

“...such a shame that you are no bachelor. My daughter, Meha'Jil, is a great beauty and she has always dreamed of meeting a Jedi knight.”

Ben could barely restrain himself from rolling his eyes and telling her that if her daughter had any knowledge about the Jedi at all, she would know that they were chaste.

Or should be, at least.

Thanks to Rey, he had been far from abstinent, but that wasn't any of this woman's business.

“You would have made a wonderful pair, indeed-”  
“I have no doubt about that, Your Ladyship.”

Nearly jumping out of his skin at hearing Armitage's voice so close all of a sudden, he turned to stare at the man next to him. Where had he come from? He hadn't felt him through the force at all and even now, standing right by his side, his aura was dim and his thoughts very well protected by a mental barrier. That skill of his was as irritating as it was impressive.

He couldn't deny that he was infinitely relieved to finally be saved.

The Duchess blanched underneath her makeup when she saw the Arkanian uniform and the rare hair colour underneath the military cap, coming to all the right conclusions about his identity before her cheeks turned red from embarrassment.

“Prince-General Hux, what a pleasure!” she stuttered, visibly humbled by his mere presence. “I meant no offence when I-”  
With the grace of a merciful king, Armitage raised one of his gloved hands to silence her, the relaxed line of his brow making his face seem almost serene. His voice was equally calm when he said: “No offence was taken. But do tell your daughter that her attentions might be better received elsewhere. Jedis are notoriously celibate.”

Ben had never seen anyone look as mortified as the Duchess did at that moment. When she was finally gone, he turned to Armitage to thank him but what left his mouth instead was: “How do _you_ know about that?”

Pale brows drawn together, half-annoyed, half-confused, his fiancé turned towards him, hands clasped behind as back, as usual, feet securely planted as if challenging Ben to do- Something.

“You will be my husband. The Jedi Order is as important to you as the _Sternweiler_ is to me.” He had no idea what the _Sternweiler_ was. Presumably, the ship under his command. “Naturally, I asked your mother and uncle about it and they were most forthcoming.”

“You talked to my mother?” And when did he talk to _Luke_? Though he already told him that Luke had been providing him with his mission reports, thus he wasn't completely taken aback by that tidbit of information. Apparently, he shouldn't have been surprised at all, about any of this, if the way Armitage stared at him was anything to go by. There were disbelief, bafflement and something like uncertainty reflected in those blue eyes.

“She's my mother-in-law,” he stated, slowly, as if he had to make sure that Ben was mentally capable of understanding what he was saying. “Of course, I talk to her.”

Still in shock, he couldn't help but ask: “You holochat with my mother? _Really_?”

“Among other things, yes,” he answered stiffly, his upper lip curling the tiniest bit. “I not only holochat with her – I _visit_ your parents from time to time.”

Ben was aware of the fact that he was practically gaping at this point, but he couldn't help it. It was frighteningly easy to picture him drinking tea with his mother and discussing military and political issues – They were both Royalty and they were both Generals. Kriff, he was basically marrying his _mother_. A redheaded, young, handsome version of her, but her nonetheless.

“ _Why_?”  
“Because-” He paused, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe that anyone was stupid enough to need an explanation for that. “Because we will marry, now rather sooner than later, and they _are_ to be my family. I will live in this palace, so I will interact with you and them on a daily basis. You were out of my reach, so, the least I could do during those 9 years ever since our engagement to make all of this run as smoothly as possible, was to get to know your parents beforehand. Your mother is an admirable woman whose intellect I greatly respect and your father is, for lack of a better word, entertaining. It's obvious where you got that antagonistic attitude from but I must say that he carries it with much more charm than you do.” Ben tried not to be offended by being compared to his father and then to lose out on him, too. “I have gotten to know them reasonably well. In fact, I helped Han with the maintenance work on the Millennium Falcon before we headed for that temple of yours.”

“ _Han_?” he parroted with disgust written all over his face as he tried to picture Armitage having a _good time_ with his _friend_ _Han Solo_ , getting his elegant hands dirty with grease as they worked on that damned ship. “How did you 'help out' exactly?”

Armitage's frown couldn't get any deeper at this point.

“I am an engineer, obviously I know my way around a ship and its inner workings,” he informed him, his dim aura starting to vibrate a bit with repressed anger and bitterness. “I graduated as a dux student from the Arkanis Academy in Engineering shortly before we first met. How do you not know that?”

Ben hadn't cared enough to know. It was as simple as that. He hadn't cared about Armitage kriffing Hux the second, he had uttered that word that had haunted him ever since.

 _Hideous_ , his mind whispered in that crisp accent.

“Your father mentioned something like that. Back then, when we were introduced,” he conceded, a little bit ashamed of himself, but mostly angry and defensive because why would he care to know anything about someone who had proclaimed that he would _exile himself to the guest room_ to not have to see his oversized nose and ears. “It has been a while and I haven't had much contact with the world outside of the temple until now.”

Armitage stared at him, looking like he wanted to say something else but then decided against it, his teeth clicking as his mouth snapped shut.

“Prince Organa, what a pleasure to finally meet you!” a Senator he didn't know chirped, blissfully unaware of the hostile tension crackling between him and his fiancé. “And Prince Armitage Hux! It's wonderful to see you again! My name is Gongul Manille, Your Highness. Congratulations on your engagement. I will, of course, attend the wedding.”

Ben wanted to fling himself out of a window. Especially, since Armitage apparently decided that he wasn't worth saving when he nodded politely, thanked the Senator for congratulating them on their shared nightmare, and weaved his way through the crowd with practised ease. Bastard. In every sense of the word.

It took almost another half hour until he finally had access to food and he couldn't help stuffing his face immediately. His body was trained to not crave food when none was around but once he got a sniff at something edible, that particular trick was rendered useless. It had been over a week now and had started to feel weaker and weaker by the hour, ever since his body registered that he was in no immediate danger anymore. Some people looked at him uncomfortably when he cared enough to lift his gaze from the food piling on his plate, his mouth so full that he could hardly chew. He realised that he wasn't behaving like a prince. Eating like that was unbecoming of someone like him. Yet, he couldn't help himself as his body was moving on auto-pilot, desperate for nourishment. They wouldn't understand. None of them. These fat, rich people didn't know what the Jedi Trials had claimed from him, what he had gone through, locked in a temple with battle droids, illusions and nightmarish encounters with himself.

They didn't know what he had seen during his Trial of the Spirit. Who he had fought. Ben wished that he didn't either.

All that mattered was that he had slain him.

He was half-way through the food on his plate when he felt another person's aura approaching him. It was the woman, Armitage's friend.

 _The kid's not a looker_.

“Good evening, Prince Organa-Solo. I hadn't had the opportunity to introduce myself, yet,” she said, her voice not nearly as soft as it was when she talked to Armitage. He could hear the sharpness of the military in it. “My name is Bryanne Phasma. I am Captain on board of the _Sternweiler_.”

Begrudgingly, he stopped eating and turned to her.

“You are his friend,” he stated and she seemed taken aback for a second. “Is this a shovel talk?”

Her gaze darkened and she stepped closer. She was exactly his height.

“I would never threaten a Prince,” she told him sternly and he couldn't help but notice how incredibly blue her eyes were from up close. It was beautiful and feminine in the strangest way, even though the rest of her wasn't. “I simply wished to introduce myself.” Ben raised a brow. “And give a word of advise.”

Ah. There it was.

“Advise,” he echoed, giving her his full attention by putting his plate aside and turning his entire body to her. “Advise on Armitage?”

It looked like she wanted to roll her eyes but restrained herself when she answered with a simple: “Yes.”

“Well, advise me then. I'm all ears.”

There was hesitation and annoyance and he could feel protectiveness emitting from her aura in the force. She must care deeply for him. For a second, he wondered if she was maybe more than just his friend. Without hesitation, he entered her mind, blocking out her thoughts, concentrating on one thing: Affection. Worry. Camaraderie.

Their relationship was a platonic one. He tried not to ponder on why he felt relief at that.

“Armitage has... _difficulties_ when it comes to interacting with people beyond professionalism. For all his politeness, he can come off as aloof and detached and sometimes even arrogant.”

He wasn't sure where she was going with this. If she told him now that the man was _fragile_ , he probably wouldn't be able to help himself from laughing at that. It takes a strong mind to built barriers like the one he created. He doubted that the man had anything but thick skin.

“Once you earn the privilege to be let in, however, you will see that he is the complete opposite. Armitage is a passionate and devoted man.” _And insecure_ , her mind added, loudly. Loud enough that he heard it without even trying to get into her head.

None of these words fit the man he had encountered so far. However, he couldn't feel anything other than sincerity in the force around her, so she at least believed what she was saying.

“He is clearly passionate about his work,” he acknowledged reluctantly, unsure of what to make of her words. “And devoted, too. He's a General at 26, after all.”

Phasma frowned.

“You are right, his work is very important to him,” she agreed but something in her voice made it clear that she hadn't been referring to that, at all. “It's not the only thing he is able to care about, though. This marriage wasn't a product of either of your choices but if you make an effort, you might get to see that side of him.”

If _he_ made that effort. So, she expected him to do all the heavy lifting in this so-called relationship. Her words were spoken with confidence, which would mean that she knew how Armitage behaved when romantically pursued. Ben couldn't help the clench of his jaw as he imagined some faceless person hacking away at Armitage's walls until he let them in and showed them his _passion_ and _devotion_. Of course, he had done the same when he had let Rey befriend and then kiss him. Armitage was older than him and he was handsome and successful, so, he probably had more than just one relationship and tryst under his belt.

Ben wondered how many had come before him. How many had been worthy of his attention? Surely, they had all been beautiful.

“Is that your 'advise', Captain?” he asked, trying to sound neutral but ending up sounding mocking instead. The worry in her aura intensified, as well as the distrust and protectiveness. Whatever test this had been, Ben had clearly failed. He didn't care either way. If Phasma was to become a knight in shining armour by saving her beloved General from a loveless marriage, she was absolutely welcome to do so. He'd even hold the door open for them.

“Yes. That was all, Your Highness,” she said, the Arkanian accent not nearly as enticing coming from her than from Armitage.

“Thank you for your... words.”

She nodded and left. Ben resumed eating.

Throughout the evening, he successfully dodged his parents and managed to hide away in the kitchen for nearly an hour before he took pity on the cooks that were almost trembling from nerves by his presence alone. At least, they had been afraid enough to let him eat whatever he saw and liked until his stomach started to hurt.

When he re-emerged, there were fewer people at the banquet than before but he didn't want to take any chances and quietly slipped out of the hall to a balcony. Immediately, he saw a figure standing there, almost prompting him to turn around and leave – Blue eyes made him stop in his tracks, though.

Armitage's blue eyes.

His military cap was gone, the red of his hair looking dark in the silvery moonlight, his ivory skin almost glowing in contrast to the black of his uniform. He looked ethereal standing there, leaning on the balcony rail on his elbows, a cigarette dangling from his lips, as his eyes were fixed on Ben's. Against his better judgement, he approached him.

Armitage turned back to his lighter, a very old looking, metal one, flipping it open and unsuccessfully trying to procure even as much as a spark, let alone a flame. With a little flick through the force, he pushed the remnants of the liquid gas to the top and when a small flame finally emerged, he pushed it out of its confinement and pressed it against the head of the cigarette before extinguishing it mid-air. Startled, his fiancé stared at the suddenly bright red cherry, turning to him with a surprised look on his face.

“You're welcome,” Ben offered when no further reaction was forthcoming.

Armitage scowled.

Then turned away.

Fine. That was... fine. He should leave, either way. What he did instead was talk some more: “I wouldn't have pegged you as a smoker.”

At that, Armitage took a long drag from his cigarette, holding it between his trigger- and middle finger. He stared out into the darkness, at the silhouettes of trees and houses far, far away, at the glitter of the lake Ben had spent the first few years of his childhood swimming in.

“You don't know anything about me, do you?” Armitage asked, quietly and coolly, not revealing any sort of emotion. Smoke curled and disappeared into the air, past his lips and kissing his ivory skin when the wind blew it back at him. There was an ache in his chest when he looked at him, the smitten 12-Year old in his head lamenting their broken potential.

“No,” he answered honestly because Ben was nothing but candid. It's why he would make such a terrible politician. “You are a complete stranger to me.”

Armitage nodded as if in understanding. No emotions were emitting from his aura – He had clearly collected himself and redoubled his efforts to keep Ben out of his head. It was striking. It was irritating.

“No distractions for Padawans,” he remarked, throwing him nothing but a glance before turning back towards the breathtaking view. “I understand that.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow.

“Do you now?”

“Yes. Your uncle explained the rule of attachment to me many years ago and I don't find it that strange of a concept. I endeavoured to avoid those as well when I was at the Academy.”  
But not after that. Again, Ben wondered how many people he had bedded or even _loved_. Was someone out there that he missed, that he had to bid farewell to in order to marry a man he didn't even find attractive? Someone like Rey was to him? His stomach turned. He told himself it was because of all the food that he had forced down his throat.

“It must have paid off,” he offered, amicably enough, finally closing the distance to stand next to him, laying his hands on the railing. His pinky could almost touch the other man's elbow. “You are the youngest General in the Outer Rim. Maybe even in the entire Galaxy.”

A proud little smile grazed those red lips, smoke dancing in the night air. He wondered what that mouth tasted like.

No. No, he should- No.

“I am,” he confirmed and the proud little smile turned into something mournful and sad. “Or was. I will only be General in title once we are married.” Armitage scoffed, though there was no heat behind it. “Who am I telling? You are making the same sacrifice. Freshly knighted and for what? Domestic life in a palace?”

Ben couldn't help but huff, sad and amused at the same time.

 _We are the same_ , the small voice of a 12-Year old whispered.

“Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?” he continued, his voice neutral once again, emotionless. “Two more days and it's done. Nothing to do about it.”

Ben stiffened.

Armitage turned to him.

“You didn't know?” his husband-in-two-days-time guessed correctly and he could feel his cheeks turning red from anger and a slowly growing sense of panic.

“I don't know anything,” Ben snapped, stepped away from the railing and broke two big vases with the force as he left the balcony and stomped to his mother and father who were talking to Earl So-or-so and his wife. They all turned to look at him when they saw him coming closer like a charging bull. The second, he reached them, he turned towards the two strangers, staring the man in the eye as he said: “You will take your wife and go home immediately.”

“I will take my wife and go home immediately,” the gullible man repeated and the small woman blanched as she was dragged away by her husband.

“Ben!” Leia gasped, scandalised, at the same time that Han chuckled: “Well, that's handy.”

He ignored them.

“ _Two days_?” he asked, his voice dark and rough and clearly on the verge of shouting. “The wedding is in _two days_ and no one bothers to tell me?”

They just stared at him – Han looking uncomfortable, Leia ashamed.

He could almost taste it then, so potent was their shared emotion: Fear.

They were still scared of him.

His training hadn't made any difference.

Whirling around to leave that place before he set something on fire, he found himself almost face to face with Armitage, whose aura was so frustratingly undetectable that he wanted to reach into his head and destroy those mental walls he had built, brick by brick, to leave him open and defenceless against his ministrations. He made a menacing step forward, their breath mingling, noses almost touching. Armitage barely blinked.

“I think you need some rest, Ben,” he whispered.

The sound of his name coming out of that mouth rendered him speechless for a second.

Then he brushed past him, leaving the hall in long strides.

His childhood bedroom was bare except for the unfamiliar clothes in the wardrobe. They looked regal. Like something that a proper prince would wear. He grabbed them all with the force and threw them out of his room into the corridor.

Unpacking was a matter of 3 minutes. There were seven robes in his wardrobe, two pairs of boots, some pants and undershirts – All black. Rey's little trinkets were placed on his night table in neat rows, the locket with the strand of her hair shoved in the top drawer.

He didn't know what to do with her nightgown, so he simply folded it and placed it underneath his pillow. The cleaning droids might see it but they would hardly care.

Once he lay in bed, naked, he curled in on himself like a baby. Sleeping alone felt strange. One of his hands slid underneath the pillow, touching the thin cotton of her little dress. It was of little comfort but feeling it grounded him.

 _I think you need some rest, Ben_.

Yes. Yes, he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the short Kylux vid: youtube.com/watch?v=2qRnh5pG-5o  
> Hope you enjoy it <3


	5. Well, I guess what hurt me most of all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding is coming closer and Ben fails to reconnect to his former home and its residents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit short but that's because the wedding is right around the corner! I didn't want to bore you all with explicit descriptions of the wedding preparation and, quite frankly, I don't think that control-freak Leia would have wanted Ben to meddle with her vision anyway. Have fun!

Ben refused to leave his room. Hiding away like that was childish and it wasn't going to solve any of his problems or make anything better, but it also wasn't going to make anything worse – And that was what he was counting on. If things simply stayed as bad as they were right now, he might be able to cope until the actual wedding. The _very public_ wedding according to the news and several gossip sites on the holonet. There were no actual pictures of him publicly available yet and he already dreaded the moment his face could be looked up and judged by every living being in the galaxy that was intelligent enough to use a holocube.

There weren't many opinions on him yet since no one knew much about him, beside the fact that he was a powerful force-wielder, as was to be expected of the Skywalker family tree and had been very recently knighted.

There were a lot of opinions on Armitage, though. _A lot_. Some sung his praises for his many achievements in the Arkanis Academy and his military career, as well as his good looks and rhetorical skills. Speaking of which - It was almost disturbing how many speeches there were. One of the first had been around the time they were introduced, his cheeks still soft and overall body slightly shorter and thinner, and he was going on about how it was the duty of the Arkanian citizens to send their children to the Academy because _a nation cannot subsist without its protective forces_.

He was frighteningly good with words. And he looked very nice on stage.

However, there were also a lot of... less favourable articles. After all, Armitage was a bastard, the son of a mere kitchen servant and a ruthless Usurper. The pacifists among the Alderaanian people were worried about his military upbringing and the Academy's indoctrination and predicted many wars lead under his rule in Alderaan. They called him a marionette to his father, a snake, a murderer, a manipulative tyrant-to-be and speculated that he may end up killing Prince Organa-Solo somewhere along the line to take the crown for himself, just like his father had done with his Empress.

To the public, Armitage Hux was either the Golden Child of the Outer Rim, some sort of Cinderella with a lot of promise for the future or a lowly devil on the rise through cunning and murder.

Ben could see him as both.

However, if his mother and uncle Luke – who were both sensitive to the force and could detect lies from miles away – trusted him, then he had no other option but to do the same.

“... _will be the end of the war between us and the Core worlds. The end of a senseless conflict between two great nations that acquiesced violence and bloodshed against each other, that were both ruled by hatred and the pain of sons and daughters lost in battles. In 3 weeks time, our realms will forever be connected, and the burnt earth upon which we stand will regain its richness as the souls of all that have fallen will find their peace at last. We and all the generations to come will remember this as the_ _ **last**_ _day of a bitter enmity that has_ _ **poisoned**_ -”

The sleek white case of the holocube cracked from him shutting it off with much more force than strictly necessary, Armitage's voice silenced brutally. Whirling around, like a boy caught with the hand in the cookie jar, he stared at the man standing at his bedroom door.

“Excuse me, Your Highness,” the stranger apologised, bowing slightly. “It wasn't my intention to startle you. I have knocked but it appears that you were occupied.”

Heat crept up into his face and he muttered something unintelligible while the man walked in, two droids in tow. Just when he was about to ask what the kriff he thought, he was doing, he spoke up again: “My name is Gillien Vort. Your mother sent me to make sure that your wedding garments fit perfectly.”

Ben couldn't help but scowl at what apparently was a tailor. He didn't need any _wedding garments_. Unbothered by the stink eye, he was being given, the dressmaker simply procured several articles of clothing, placing them neatly on Ben's bed as the droids set up a make-shift fitting room with mirrors and an elevated platform for him to step on.

Annoyed, he looked at the garments and couldn't help the displeased frown. They looked prim and proper, the dark blue fabric soft and cut to what he presumed was the current fashion with both golden and silver ornaments on the sleeves and collar.

He hated it.

“I'm not going to wear that,” he decided out loud, taking a step back as if more distance between him and the offending garments would prevent them from jumping on his skin. “I'm a knight and I will wear my robes.”

The tailor looked at him – Not angry or affronted, but instead, visibly amused.

“You and your fiancé are very much alike,” he chuckled and Ben blinked in surprise and confusion, his frown deepening. “He said the exact same thing.”

Immediately, he could see that little disgusted curl of Armitage's red upper lip as he looked at the outfit chosen for him with disdain. His accent was sharp and crisp as the tailor's words were confirmed by a very recent memory at the forefront of his mind:

 _I will not wear this. As a General, I will wear nothing short of a military-issued uniform_.

“It was the Queen's design, but since both you and your fiancé wish for a different outfit, we might as well get your measurements and begin from scratch,” the tailor mused, more to himself than to Ben. “Is there a certain set of robes that you have in mind for the wedding?”

Truth be told, he didn't have anything in mind for the wedding. Up until now, he certainly hadn't given his clothes even a single thought. Caught by surprise, he shuffled to this wardrobe and stared at its spare content. They looked mostly the same but one of them did look a little sleeker than the others, shorter, less Jedi-like, with a thick belt holding it in place. The tailor was eyeing his closet critically and hummed when Ben gave him the chosen robe.

“It's almost military in design,” he noted with a pleased look on his face. “That will certainly make it easier to match your fiancé's.”

Oh, no. They were going to _match_.

The taking of his measurements was a quick procedure as Ben decided to simply comply and let the man do his job.

“Can it be black?” he asked when the man started to pack up the rejected outfit.

“It's not traditional for Alderaanian Royalty, but since your fiancé made the same request, Her Majesty surely won't have too many objections. The cape, however, will have to be blue.”

“Fine.”

Once the tailor left, Ben didn't know what to do with himself. The wedding was creeping closer and closer and he felt his chest constrict at the thought. At least, his husband-to-be didn't seem to care much for colour, either.

With a tinge of regret, he picked up the broken holocube. The speech had been very... political. He hadn't mentioned Ben in any way other than their nations uniting through Armitage and him. The rest of the entire thing was nothing but promises of peace and prosperity. Of course, he hadn't expected Armitage to belt out any love poems, especially, since they had yet to meet again at the time the speech was recorded. But still. There could have been something, _anything_ , even remotely personal in there.

Stepping unto the balcony, wondering if it was at all possible to repair the damaged cube, he heard his mother laughing. It was a strange sound to him since he had barely ever heard it during his childhood and never during their rare holochats over the years in the temple. Looking down from the railing into the garden as curiosity got the best of him, he immediately spotted her sitting with Armitage underneath a tree, playing chess.

Both had foregone their perfectly pressed outfits worn for the public and instead opted for softer fabrics with fewer layers than usual. His mother was dressed in white, the dress loose and flowy, though it did cover her from neck to toe, as usual. Nothing but her hands were naked as she replaced one of the black pieces on the board with a white one. Her hair, quite notably, was worn in a loose braid resting on one shoulder. Ben had never seen it outside of some intricate hairdo and it was almost a shock to see the full length of her brown hair, already tinged with a hint of silver here and there.

Armitage looked equally disarming out of his uniform, only clad in form-fitting black pants and a grey tunic that looked a little loose but didn't reveal any more skin than usual. His feet and hands were bare. His face was bare, too, but in a different sense. He was at ease.

It seemed that Armitage hadn't lied when he said that he had gotten to know his parents well. They looked like mother and son, enjoying a sunny evening over a match of chess, smiling at private little jokes that only time spent together could procure.

Ben had never felt so lonely in his life.

Unworthy.

The Millenium Falcon had barely changed ever since Han had dropped him off at the Jedi Temple with false promises of holocalls and visits to make Ben stop crying. He hadn't had the opportunity to take a real look until now and was surprised to find it in an even better condition than before; cleaner, sturdier and technically improved. The sublight engines had been replaced very recently, and there were eight heat exhaust vents on top now instead of six. The rectenna dish was gone.

“Ben?” the gruff voice of his father echoed in the docking bay once he had climbed up to see if the quad laser cannon was still there. (It wasn't – The weapon installed in its stead looked much more vicious and precise) “Is that you?”

“Yes, it's me,” he confirmed, already on his way back down. The ship's mantle was so sleek, he almost lost footing and promptly decided to just jump and feather his fall with the force.

“Take it easy, son!” his father called when Ben reached one of the mandibles and was clearly getting in position to jump.

“I know what I'm doing,” is all he said before he did it and landed as gracefully as he could, just to rub it in his face. Luke had always shaken his head with fond exasperation at his peacocking before reminding him calmly that Jedis were supposed to keep their ego in check. He only ever reprimanded him when he was being arrogant during missions. Any kind of silliness could get one killed out there and he liked to think that he now knew when it was time to be serious.

“It's been over 25 years and I'm still not used to all that Jedi-stuff,” he muttered, approaching Ben with uncertainty, the force around him rippling with nerves. “Were you looking for something specific or did you just want to pay your old man a visit?”

“Did Armitage update the Falcon?” he asked, ignoring Han's pitiful attempt at a conversation-starter. “There are quite a few changes.”

Han grunted, one corner of his mouth curled upwards as he looked at his ship as if he had never seen it before. There was something like pride emitting from him, but it was different from what he usually felt around his ship. There was a tinge of a very certain type of affection added to it.

“Clever kid, that one,” he finally answered, his voice rough from age and maybe even cigarettes. He could picture them both sitting on Han's ship, smoking, and drinking and talking about whatever needed some repairing next. “Armie certainly knows what he's doing, the Falcon was never better.”

The nickname took him off guard. Last time, he had said it, he had taken it as a joke. But he hadn't known that those two were _chummy_ , back then.

“You actually call him _Armie_?”

Han laughed.

“The guy hates it. 'should see his face whenever I drop that one.”

Ben _had_ seen his face. It didn't seem that funny anymore.

“You never let me help you with the ship,” he couldn't help but say before regretting it immediately and turning his face away. He knew the answer even before Han opened his mouth: “8-Year-olds and ships don't mix, son. Especially when they make shit break or fly across the entire hangar during their tantrums.”

Tantrums.

“I could have helped,” he insisted, knowing that he sounded like a child all over again. “When I was older.”

At that, Han didn't answer since they both knew that he had never stayed long enough at the temple to have Ben help with anything. And when he had been there, it ended up mostly being Han and Luke talking and laughing while he tagged along quietly. Luke had tried to leave them alone countless times but by the time he successfully left them to their own devices, Ben had been too angry to do anything other than snap at his father.

“Well, you're older _now_ ,” Han offered weakly, hands on his hips and also avoiding to look at Ben directly in favour of staring at the beautiful icy glow of the sublight engines. “The three of us could do some maintenance work together if you want to. Armie would like that, too, I'm sure.”

Ben grit his teeth.

“Sure,” he mumbled, the leather of his gloves squeaking a bit when he curled his hands into fists. How typical of Han to need a buffer for any interactions with his _actual_ son.

The silence that followed was awkward, to say the least.

Ben still felt lonely.

“Did you get to talk to him some more?” Han asked after what felt like years of standing there and staring at the blue light. “He's a bit of a stuck up and not exactly a joker, but he's a good man.”

“And what am I?”

Han looked at him. Ben met his gaze. The tension between them was becoming more uncomfortable by the second.

“What am I?” he repeated, trying hard not to snap or sound angry despite the fact, that he wanted to hit something. “What did you tell him about me before we met?”

Han turned to him.

“That you're a hothead. But a good kid.”

What does 'good kid' even _mean_? And how would Han know? He hadn't been there to be a reliable judge of his current character.

He settled for a non-committal 'Ah'.

The conversation was over.

The ballroom was beautifully decorated, he had to admit, albeit begrudgingly. It wasn't nearly as colourful as he had expected, instead, they had opted for mostly white and different hues of blue, even a little bit of grey. It looked almost like misty dreamscape when he walked down the aisle, taking one of his gloves off to let his fingertips graze the soft petals of strange silvery flowers that were attached to every bank and littered all over the altar. The scent was sweet, but not overly so, despite their abundance throughout the entire room. It reminded him of how the Alderaanian flame-roses in mother's garden smelled after a night of rain. They didn't look much like roses, though, as they were more reminiscent of the Succulosum Azure. Bell-shaped with a long, curled stamen in between the round petal-bed, it's pollen almost lilac in colour as it stuck to his finger, dry and fine like powdered sugar.

“Those are called _Nibelkloschs_.”

Taking a deep breath, he turned towards the smooth, cool voice, unsurprised, to find Armitage approaching him. His gaze, though, was directed at the flowers, not Ben. The pale feet and hands were covered again, but he was still wearing the grey tunic and the black pants, now neatly tucked into his knee-high boots.

Ben didn't feel like talking to the man, but he still indulged him: “They're from Arkanis?”

“Yes. They are commonly found near the sea. Mostly on cliffs,” he explained as he came to a halt next to Ben. He still wasn't looking at him. “ _Nibelkloschs_ are quite resilient. If they weren't so pretty, one might classify them as weeds for how hard it is to get rid of them. Stubborn things.”

Ben huffed.

“How fitting then,” he remarked, dryly, still rubbing at the lilac pollen on his skin.

That, finally, made Armitage look at him.

“How so?”  
Ben shrugged, not meeting his gaze yet but instead putting his glove back on as he felt uncomfortable with showing more skin than he was being shown himself. It made him feel vulnerable.

“My parents tried very hard to get rid of me and look where I am,” he huffed, anger simmering right underneath the surface and only kept in check by the heavy feeling of sadness settling into his every bone. “Weed sounds about right.”

There was a beat of silence.

“No one tries to get rid of _Nibelkloschs_ ,” the man retorted, even if a bit dilatory, and their eyes immediately met when Ben turned his head to look at him. “Least of all your parents.”

“Are we talking in sub-context now?” he scoffed, turning his entire body to face Armitage, fully aware of his height and bulk, especially with how small his fiancé looked like out of his shoulder-padded greatcoat and uniform jacket. “If so, then riddle me this: How is it that this place is littered with Arkanian flowers and no Alderaanian ones?”

Armitage's mouth opened immediately – but not a single word left it. Belatedly, he seemed to think the question over in his head while Ben waited for the answer, uncharacteristically anxious. After all, this man seemed to know his parents pretty well. He would know how they felt about Ben if he asked them half as many questions about him than he did about the Jedi Order.

The longer, he was thinking, the heavier Ben's limbs felt.

Armitage's mouth closed.

So there was that.

“I see,” he spat, grabbing the entire bunch of _Nibelkloschs_ attached to the bank nearest of them, to rip it off of it. Loose petals scattered across the floor around their feet when Ben threw the bouquet to the ground and crushed them with the force for good measure. Armitage simply stood there, unmoved, the blue of his eyes unreadable as his gaze wandered from the abused blossoms back to Ben's face. A barely visible mist curled around their shoes, apparently emitting from the flowers, and he stepped away, brows drawn together.

“Don't worry,” Armitage said as indifferent as ever. “They're not poisonous. Arkanis is a rainy planet and the _Nibelkloschs_ retain moisture. They're the reason why the Arkanian cliffs seem to be covered in lilac mist. That's how the men of the sea used to know that they're approaching a bedrock.”

“Were they mother's idea?” A nod. “Tell her, she should write poems if she feels like being metaphorical because so far, she's shit at expressing herself with flowers.”

Armitage only looked at him.

Insulted and on the verge of what his father would call _one of his tantrums_ , he decided to leave before he destroyed more than just one single bouquet of offending flowers. With the way, the force vibrated around him, he was positive that he could wreck the entire room with a single push. As he made his way back to the great doors, he almost didn't hear Armitage's quiet words: “They also stand for lost men finding their way home.”

Ben paused only for a second.

Then he left anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1_ylSjJnJ8KJjSszdq6yxuFXa4/Star-Wars-The-Last-Jedi-Cosplay-Kylo-Ren-Costume-Movie-Superhero-Outfit-New-Year-Clothes-Halloween.jpg
> 
> That's the robe Ben gave the tailor btw. The cape's gonna be blue and the actual thing will look a little sharper.
> 
> Nibelklosch: Nibel (Nebel; German word for mist/fog), Klosch (Glosche; old German term for bell/cloche)  
> Sternweiler: Stern (German for star), Weiler (derived from German "verweilen"; to linger; used as noun for "someone who lingers" here), so it basically means "Someone who lingers by the stars")


	6. Put me in my place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben struggles to go through with the wedding. Armitage's coldness is making it even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this one is long! Finally, the wedding - And the wedding night! Brace yourself, kids, 'cause you're about to enter the paintrain! I'm serious. This chapter will /hurt/.  
> Have fun and get yourself some tissues!

The day before the wedding, Ben didn't get to see Armitage. Or anyone he knew, really. Instead, C3PO annoyed the living daylights out of him, ushering him from the dressing room where he had to try on the wedding robe – which, admittedly, turned out better looking than he had thought -, to the barber who gave him a bit of a haircut and a very thorough shave that left him with pinkish skin - “It will calm down by tomorrow, that's the trick.” - to the 'rehearsing room'. When he asked why he was rehearsing by himself, pretending that C3PO was Armitage, and not with the others, no real answer was given. He knew he could bully the robot – who looked just as new and updated as the Falcon, courtesy of one Armitage Hux, surely – into admitting that the others hadn't wanted him there. They were probably worried that he would destroy the décor – especially after finding the crushed _Nibelklosch_ bouquet – in a juvenile fit, or worse, hurt someone. Armitage being the most likely victim in their minds. Anger and frustration hit him and he couldn't help feeling slighted and abandoned, especially, when no one came to do or say _anything_ to him the entire day.

The rehearsal went as well as it could with him saying his designated vows to a kriffing android, standing in an empty room. Even the text he was given was terrible. Mother obviously didn't think him capable of writing his own wedding vows and the lines she had him learn in a day were cheesy and fake and straight up horrible. He hated every single word that he had to utter as convincingly as possible while trying not to cry or laugh at having to say all that bantha shit to C3PO of all people – or things, or whatever.

“What about the rings?” he asked when C3PO deemed him prepared for the upcoming event and escorted him back to his bedroom. “The wedding is tomorrow and I didn't get to see any options or-”

“Your mother chose the rings already, Your Highness,” C3PO interrupted him quickly with a hint of anxiety in his voice.

Ben stopped dead in his tracks and it took the android a second or two before he noticed and turned towards him. He didn't know what his face looked like at that moment but it must have been bad if the jumpy robot felt the need to come closer and pat him awkwardly on the arm in a bad attempt to comfort him.

“She chose my spouse, the words in my wedding vows and even the ring I'm supposed to put on his finger?” he asked, his voice weak and quiet in a way that he wasn't even familiar with himself.

This was a nightmare. A complete and utter nightmare.

His eyes were stinging as he had to take a deep, rattling breath in, trying to loosen the tightness of his chest as he felt his rips close around his lungs and heart in a death grip. Panic wasn't the word for what he felt. Heartbreak didn't really cover it, either. If he had to put a name to it, it would probably be grief.

“Her Majesty surely meant well,” C3PO assured him, still patting his arm. Ben pushed the android aside, though not as hard as he could have done, to walk the rest of the way to his room by himself. Tomorrow was supposed to be _his_ day. _His_ and _Armitage_ 's. And yet, his mother had taken it upon herself to once again force her opinions and decisions on him. He wondered if Armitage had something to say during the preparations at all or if his thoughts and ideas had been by-passed as well. A part of him hoped that there was at least a touch of Armitage in this whole thing, while another would resent the idea of the other man having had more say in this than he had been granted.

In his room, he settled on the floor, cross-legged, and tried to meditate. The first few years of his Padawan training he had struggled with this particular activity, finding his mind too full or loud to dive into the depths of his mind. Luke had been a great help and he missed his calm presence, helping him to find that quiet spot in his soul where he could rest.

There were no voices here. Not from the darkness, not Luke's or the other Padawans', nor his own. Just... silence.

Then, when he felt that he had properly calmed down, he imagined that he could tuck all of that anger and bitterness and grief into a jar that he could put on a shelf, so he could still look at it, but not be consumed by it. Luke had taught him that it was important to not eliminate his feelings but to distance himself from them, so he could acknowledge them and work through them once he felt capable of doing so. There were some empty jars on his inner shelf, but to his frustration, the majority of them were filled to the brim.

Ben knew that he wasn't supposed to ignore them but he didn't know where to start whenever he toyed with the thought of finally opening one or two of them to solve these particular conflicts of his mind.

A lot of those jars were connected to Armitage. But mostly to his parents, especially, his mother.

Once again, he chose to leave that place, not a single jar opened.

The day he had dreaded for 9 years had finally come.

It was C3PO who came to wake him – as if he had gotten any sleep – and bring him breakfast. Ben hadn't bothered to eat with the others the last few days, so this was either them trying to be considerate or a subtle way to tell him that they didn't want him at the breakfast table while he was in any kind of distress. And they must know that he was less than happy, or they wouldn't have sent an android that could be repaired if he decided to shoot the messenger.

Besides, they knew that he had a soft spot for C3PO in particular, even if he didn't show it much. He had seen the golden droid more than he had his parents during his early childhood in the palace. It was mainly for chaperoning reasons because Ben had never stood still and was breaking things wherever he went, but still. He was there.

Ben didn't feel like eating anything but he forced himself to do it anyway, lest C3PO told his parents that he refused food which would probably get them into panic mode if their past behaviour was anything to go by. What a joke. All of it.

“As you know, it is tradition that the grooms don't meet before the ceremony!” the droid chirped and he hummed, clearly unenthused. “The wedding will take place in 10 hours, so we have plenty of time to rehearse the vows again, and wash your hair and if you like I can arrange-”  
“When is Luke coming?”  
“Oh! Master Luke is on his way as far as I know but it will be hours still before he reaches Alderaan. Shall I contact him?”

Ben sighed.  
“No, it's fine,” he mumbled, more to himself than to C3PO as he followed him to rehearse the entire thing all over again, even though he already knew mother's terrible vows by heart. He even got to see the rings when he asked the droid about them. He suspected that he only indulged him because he had seen how crestfallen Ben had been the day before when he learnt that he didn't even get to pick those out himself. Or at least the one for Armitage. Sure, he didn't know the man, but it would have come from _Ben_ and not the mother-in-law.

“Well, here they are,” C3PO told him once they entered the boxroom next to the ballroom. “But it's better if you don't, er... touch them.”

 _Destroy them_ , he had most likely wanted to say. _Like everything else you touch_.

They were bland. Disappointment settled low in his gut as he stared at the golden, plain rings. Traditional, impersonal, cold.

Like his engagement.

Like his wedding.

The saddest thing was that he knew exactly what kind of ring he would have chosen for his intended. Ben would have wanted to give them something that would remind them of him, something that would represent him being with them wherever they went. The ring would have been silver, for one, because he didn't like warm colours all that much and gold felt too... bright. No, it would have been silver and it wouldn't have been plain but textured instead, as if he had carved tiny nicks into it with his lightsaber. The band would have been a little broader, sturdier, just like him. And he would've liked for his spouse to have a stone to look at too. Flat, embedded in the silver as if it was barely peeking out of its metal cage. And the stone would have been a blue corusca gem, like his lightsaber's Kyber crystal. He even would have gone back to the Massassi temple to retrieve one, would have endured another week of starvation, would have faced the masked man he had slain during his Trial of the Spirit all over again.

The ring would have been a part of him, would have had his heart bleeding all over it, so his spouse would always know that Ben would protect them from all harm.

Rey would have liked that probably. With Armitage, he wasn't so sure. He wouldn't put it past the man to laugh at Ben's sentimentality, cruelly, like he had done 9 years ago when Phasma had suggested that he may still grow into someone he could like. Armitage wouldn't care for the stone, either, he was sure. Him fighting his way through a Jedi Temple wouldn't mean anything to him, after all, he had told her that he didn't care for Ben's _magic tricks_.

Armitage probably wouldn't want a reminder of this particular spouse on his finger anyway.

The next few hours felt like an eternity. Ben was very quiet and it seemed to unnerve both the droid and the servants that were helping him dress, making sure that no last-minute-fixes were needed. People were unnerved by his presence, either way, it didn't matter if he was quiet or shouting in rage. Nothing mattered, really. Nothing at all.

Some woman was trying to tame his curls and jumped at his firm _No_ when she wanted to go for a braid. He liked his hair just the way it was. No braids or ornaments or whatever those genteel people out there would have liked to see on him.

He was a Jedi Knight, not a Princess.

Besides, there was no point. Armitage found him hideous, either way. And that was the only opinion that counted in any way. Ben sank a little deeper into his seat, staring at his reflection in the mirror with a frown, unused to seeing his face. There was an awkward slope to his jaw and his nose, his mouth was huge and red and his freakishly dark eyes didn't match up either. The scar only added to the asymmetry. Armitage had been right, after all. There had been no way that his features would have come together to something pleasant, puberty or not. From a certain angle, he even looked like a child, his head too small for his almost bizarrely broad shoulders.

Looking at himself like that, he felt pity for Armitage.

Surely, he could have found someone to match his beauty if he had been given the chance. Instead, he was stuck with _this_.

“The ceremony will start soon, Your Majesty. Do you need something to drink before you got out there?”

“Like alcohol?”

“Er, no, I meant- water. For hydration. Not... not that.”

“Then, no.”

Fortunately, the servant left at that. Ben didn't care much for alcohol but he wouldn't mind some right now. The burn in his throat might distract him from the burn of his eyes when he thought about going out there and marrying a virtual stranger in front of the entire Galaxy because, of course, it needed to be _broadcasted_. When this was over, he might find some articles about himself. Maybe some would lament Armitage's sad fate with a husband as ugly as him.

“Ben,” a familiar voice called and he knocked the chair over from how fast he stood up when he saw Luke standing at the door, smiling at him. “My, look at you. All dressed up.”

Suddenly, it felt like sunlight parted the clouds inside his head and he could cry right then and there from the relief he felt at finally seeing a friendly, loving face. He didn't care about vulnerability when he almost jumped Luke, throwing his arms around the smaller man's frame and just- just holding him there. His shoulders were trembling when tender hands rubbed his back in small motions, somewhere over the blue cape they made him wear.

“It's alright,” Luke whispered when Ben struggled to keep the tears in check that suddenly started to well behind his lids. “You'll be alright, Ben. I promise. Everything will be fine.”  
He let himself have this for just a moment longer, one more breath, one more heartbeat, one more tear, before he let Luke go and immediately started to wipe his eyes, though, it was a little harder to do than expected due to the leather gloves. Luke was still smiling at him, softly and sadly and so tender that he felt like crying all over again.

“I don't want to do it,” he whispered and the broken sound of it was pathetic when combined with the deep rumble of his voice. “I can't- I hate it here. Everyone is scared of me. They don't even talk to me, Luke- Mother didn't talk to me even _once_ since we arrived and Armitage- Armitage just looks at me like- His eyes are so cold. They're so cold. This can't be my life, this can't be it. I'd rather die than live like this.”  
Luke's face fell just a little bit more with every word and he grabbed Ben's shoulders when it seemed like he was going to sway forward, dizzy from the nightmarish prospect of his future. His voice was full of love but also stern, when he said: “Enough, Ben. Enough. I know this is hard. Believe me, I would have kept you with me and Rey if I had any say in this. But I don't. You have a duty, as does Armitage.”

The word 'duty' sobered him up a little.

He hesitated before he asked: “How... how is she?”

“You know her. She's tough. But I can tell that she's grieving,” Luke told him, the force around them filled with nothing but sincerity. “She will survive. And so will you. Armitage wasn't your choice, I know that. But he's not a bad man, Ben. I would have felt ill intentions when I taught him how to shield his mind if there had been any. He's just as scared as you are.”

 _We are the same_ , the 12-Year old inside his mind whispered.

“Do you think... do you think we could come to-” His voice broke.

Luke smiled.

“Love each other?” Ben nodded. “I don't see why not. You just wait and see. Everything will be just as it is meant to be. You'll be alright. I promise.”

His entire body trembled from how much he wanted to believe what Luke was telling him. He may never be truly happy, or in love, or loved by his parents, but, ultimately, he would be alright. No matter how many jars of anger and sorrow and hopelessness piled up on his inner shelf, there would always be the little jars of happiness that he kept somewhere else, somewhere safe. He only had to close his eyes and reach for them.

“I missed you,” he whispered, like a child telling his father a secret, feeling small and vulnerable.

Without hesitation, Luke said: “I missed you, too.”

When Ben entered the ballroom, every single heard turned towards him. Dread constricted his throat like cold hands trying to strangle him. The only thing that kept him moving with just a little nudge was Luke beside him. Ben didn't have many requests in regards to his wedding over the years, mostly because he had tried to ignore it away, but one thing he had insisted on as far back as his 18th birthday, was that it would be Luke by his side instead of Han. Tradition dictated that his father was to be the groomsman and as far as Ben was concerned, Luke filled those shoes a lot better than Han did. He never knew how his father had taken that news but since he didn't fight it, he probably didn't care much either way.

Luke looked weird outside of his typical Jedi robes, to say the least. And he didn't seem all that comfortable either. Back in the corridor, he had fidgeted a lot with the stiff collar of his blue suit jacket. If it wasn't for the lightsaber on his hip, he would have looked like any other Duke or Earl, which was kind of hilarious as well as creepy. Ben liked Luke better in his robes.

The room was silent except for the orchestra playing somewhere to his left. The song was beautiful by itself but Ben felt extremely awkward to have it play for him and he wasn't sure whether he was supposed to make his tempo match with the music or not. Even without seeing himself, he could tell that he was pale and tense as he tried to avoid anyone's gaze on his way to the altar. Armitage wasn't there yet, so it fell upon Ben to stand there awkwardly, waiting for him, once he reached where he probably was supposed to stand. He wasn't exactly sure because he didn't get to rehearse in the actual room this was happening in. Since no one corrected him, he assumed that he got it right. Luke stood three steps down, smiling at him encouragingly when the doors opened again and he started to panic.

This was it. This was happening now. There was no going back from this point on.

Armitage looked divine.

Seeing him felt like a punch to the gut but not in the way he had expected. The man was always beautiful but the tailor did a fantastic job when it came to his garments. Black, like his, all clean lines, sharp and military, accentuating all of his better qualities – from which he had an abundance of anyway – and the midnight blue cape, that was almost identical to his, made him look like he was king already. He couldn't imagine that there was a single person in the Galaxy that wouldn't want to bend the knee for this man.

Emperor Hux was walking his son to the altar but the frosty air around them was obvious even from a distance. When they reached the steps that would take them to where Ben stood and waited, Armitage turned to his father, already half-way in the motion to dip his head a bit in a weirdly submissive gesture. Ben hadn't noticed that he had been wearing a necklace until Emperor Hux closed his fingers around the pendant with the Arkanian emblem on it – and pulled. From Armitage's surprised look this hadn't been part of the plan at all. The thin chain broke. Armitage was frozen for all of a second before he simply nodded. Then he turned to Ben.

When their eyes met, he wasn't sure whether he was blushing or blanching, but his feet went cold and his heart was beating fast and hard inside his chest. Gracefully, Armitage joined him to stand in front of the altar, leaving his father behind on the bottom of the stairs. They looked at each other – And Ben was dismayed to find that the cold blue of his eyes hadn't changed a bit. He didn't even seem nervous and, instead, more like a man trying to stare down his executioner. Ben's gaze flickered to the floor, unable to bear that chilling gaze for much longer.

The registrar coughed discreetly and they both turned towards him.

Ben hadn't even noticed that he had been there and he found that he hadn't seen this man in his life. Once again, he wished that they had let him rehearse like everyone else because he didn't recognize any of the words the man said and it was making him even more nervous than he already was. The leather of his gloves squeaked a bit as he clenched and unclenched his fists, trying not to fidget with his legs. Ben stared at the man's chin.

“...the union of two young men that have found love and comfort in one another, their love a bridge between worlds, strong enough to end the most bitter of wars-”

It was only then that it hit Ben that the public thought this was real. That this was some kind of starcrossed lovers scenario where they ended up together, bringing peace with it as a by-product. That would explain why the Regency and the Core Worlds had only declared armistice 9 years ago instead of actual peace.

That was why Armitage's speech three weeks prior had been addressing _a peace to come_ instead of sealing a peace that already was.

Ben felt nauseous.

He missed the part where he was supposed to rattle out the vows his mother had written for him and Luke had to nudge him through the force, sending a very clear: _Concentrate, Ben. You're supposed to be declaring your love right now._

Taking a shuddering breath, he turned to Armitage, who had been watching him, waiting for Ben to get a grip on himself. His eyes were so cold.

“I, Prince Ben Organa-Solo of the Core Worlds, hereby pledge myself to you with body and soul,” he started, trying not to cringe and to make it sound like he meant any of this. “I forfeit my faith and my vows to the Jedi Order, so I can offer you all there is of me – You are my husband, the one I choose to spend the rest of my days with, the one I will love until my very last breath. Your life above my life, your name matching my name and your heart safe inside my chest.”

It was so corny and inauthentic, he might as well have said: _I'm only doing this because the alternative is war_.

His mother approached them while he gently removed Armitage's left glove, revealing his pale, elegant fingers. She was smiling at them, offering him the smaller plain band of gold lying on top of a white satin pillow. Ben tried not to scowl at it as he took it carefully with his free hand, Armitage's naked one gracefully placed upon his gloved fingertips.

The ring fit perfectly. He couldn't help but think that silver would have looked so much nicer on that ivory skin.

“I, Prince-General Armitage Hux of the Regency Worlds, swear to devote myself to you from this day on until the day I die. I renounce my name and my home, hoping that you may share yours with me and take me in. I surrender my body and my heart to you, trusting that you will cherish all of my sacrifices made for your sake. That you will love me, as I love you.”

 _Mother did a much better job at Armitage's speech_ , was the first thing that came to mind when his glove was peeled from his sweaty skin. He would have tried to help if he hadn't been completely stupefied by the well-written vow and Armitage's superb acting skills. This was stage-Armitage, the one he had listened to on his holocube, talking about _protective forces_ and _realms connecting forever_.

Armitage's mother was there with the other ring and he tried not to startle at the sudden skin contact as the other bland ring was gliding over his knuckles, finding its place on his finger.

There. It was done.

“I hereby pronounce you spouses. You may kiss.”

Despite everything, his heart skipped a beat.

Armitage's hands were still in his, those long delicate fingers curled around Ben's thick and calloused ones, though, their skin wasn't touching as they were both still wearing one glove each. Their eyes met and Ben drew a shaky breath, feeling hot underneath his robes, hands sweaty from the nerves. The worst thing was, that he _wanted_ to kiss Armitage.

When his groom tilted his head back just the slightest bit, his red lips parting just so, inviting him in, he wondered if the feeling was mutual. If maybe, this beautiful man in front of him wanted to kiss Ben as well.

But Armitage was stiff when he closed his eyes as if he was waiting for the hangman to put the noose around his neck.

Before bitterness could settle in, Ben pulled himself together, swaying forward, head tilted to the right – Their lips met.

Armitage's mouth was warm and soft and moist when Ben moved his own against his, seeking the tender friction, both because he wanted to and because he knew that he was expected to make this look real. And it _was_ on him to do that because his groom froze completely. It felt humiliating and disillusioning to be met with such a reaction, especially, since Ben wasn't used to kissing an unwilling partner.

At the same time, he couldn't help but think that _this was nice_. He liked the way those lips felt underneath his and there was heat pooling in his groin at noticing the hint of warm wetness as the man's mouth opened a little bit under his silent guidance.

He pulled back.

Armitage's eyes opened.

Ben wanted to scream at how unaffected he looked.

There was cheering and music as if his heart hadn't just dropped into his gut, as if he hadn't just forced his mouth on someone who hadn't wanted it. His now-husband averted his gaze and he was the first to turn towards the aisle, tugging a little bit at Ben's gloved hand to make him follow. The boots on his feet might as well have been made out of stone for how heavy they felt with every step he took, mind blank, fingers numb.

It was going to be alright. Luke had promised.

Ben had the honour to make the first cut into the meat of an Iriaz that his father, as per tradition, had to hunt down for him and his husband to share. Only when they had piled their portions of meat on their plates were the other's allowed access. Family first, then the guests.

Even though it was perfectly cooked, he had a hard time chewing it. His mouth was dry despite the moistness of the food and he couldn't taste a thing. Armitage beside him was cutting the meat into neat little cubes before gingerly piercing it with his fork and leading it to his mouth to close his lips around it. The lips that he had kissed just moments ago. He knew exactly how they felt and what they tasted like and he felt simultaneously hot and cold as his attraction to Armitage was fighting the guilt he felt about having kissed him the way he did. He should have gone for a peck, should have only lingered for a moment with the barest hint of pressure.

Instead, he had kissed him like a lover seeking intimacy.

Ben was a monster.

There was more food and music and some people opted to dance. Ben was grateful that he wasn't forced to dance himself, though, he suspected that he was only spared because he would have embarrassed himself. And because this part of the wedding wasn't being broadcasted.

Armitage didn't talk to him, instead, he remained sitting next to him, stiff and staring at a random spot on the opposite wall. Both of his gloves were gone and Ben couldn't help but look at the long, graceful fingers curled around the black fabric on his knees. He looked like a statue.

Ben sank a little deeper into his seat.

At one point, he realised that people were starting to throw them weird looks. Confused and irritated, he turned to Uncle Luke who looked a bit uncomfortable as he clutched his glass of wine.

_You're supposed to retire for the night._

Oh.

Dread and excitement were rushing through his veins as he turned to Armitage who was still pointedly avoiding to look at him.

He didn't know how to tell him that they were supposed to have sex now. Though, he probably knew. Which was why he was pretending not to notice that Ben was waiting for him to acknowledge him. It was disheartening and he couldn't help feeling hurt by the silent rejection.

People started whispering.

Ben had enough.

Taking a deep breath, he blindly grabbed Armitage's hand – The one with the ring on the fourth digit. - and stood up. It took his husband all of two seconds before he finally did the same and followed him when Ben steered them towards the door. Some idiot whistled suggestively and a few others were clapping as if congratulating them on finally leaving for their first fuck as a married couple.

Or, in this case, their first fuck ever.

Ben refused to call it anything other than that because it was impossible to make love to someone who wouldn't even kiss him back, let alone willingly open his legs for him.

It was only then, that he wondered whether Armitage expected _him_ to take his dick.

The thought wasn't repulsing per se, but it felt alien and strange to even picture himself in such a position. Whenever he had thought about having sex with Armitage – and he had to admit that the man had been part of a lot of his sexual fantasies throughout the years – it had been him with those pale, slender thighs bracketing his hips.

He would roll over for him, though, if he wanted him to.

If he wanted him at all.

C3PO had shown him where their shared bedroom was the day before but he hadn't looked inside. When he pushed the door open, still holding his husband's unresponsive hand, he was surprised to see that it looked a little nicer than he had expected. Less empty. Warmer.

He closed the door behind them and let go of Armitage's hand. A heavy silence filled the candle-lit room when he approached the huge canopy bed and sat down, testing the firmness of the mattress, hands placed next to his hips. When he looked up, he could see more candles hanging from the dark roof, seemingly floating in the air. It looked like a night sky.

Realising that it was on him to make the first move, his gaze fell on Armitage.

Armitage, who was staring him straight in the eye, nimble fingers occupied with opening the many tiny clasps that held his jacket together, the blue cape already pooling around his feet. Ben's jaw had slackened at some point and he had to consciously close his mouth, teeth clicking together, heat and tension building up inside of him. Transfixed, he could do nothing but look and he couldn't help the shakiness of his breath when he finally got to see tiny glimpses of porcelain skin.

Armitage was only standing there, opening his jacket, and yet, it already was the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

When the last clasp was undone, he opened the jacket, exposing the entire length of his naked torso. Ben wanted to grab him by the hips and throw him into the sheets.

He wanted Armitage.

He wanted him so much.

When he was just about to stand up to finally get his hands on his husband's skin, he felt it: Armitage's mind barrier was still up but his aura was vibrating with something so potent that he was unable to keep it hidden: Unease.

And fear.

Ben's arousal died immediately.

Despite being so scared that the force rippled with it, the handsome face remained unmoved and stoic as he kept his gaze steadily directed at Ben's face. Not even his eyes, he realised a moment later, but his forehead.

Now that his disinterested dick was letting him process the situation, he could see how tense and stiff Armitage's body was when he exposed his shoulders, clearly meaning to take the jacket off completely. He couldn't do this. He just couldn't.

“Stop.”

The word was loud and harsh in the uncomfortable silence of the room and he could see the surprise and confusion on his husband's face before it was smothered again and replaced by a frown.

“This is our wedding night,” Armitage said as if Ben didn't know and needed reminding. “We are supposed to consummate our marriage.”

Even _fuck_ sounded more personal than that.

Ben's mouth tightened.

“Consummation is an archaic tradition,” he sneered, angry and frustrated that he had thought, if only for a moment, that Armitage wanted him in _some_ way. _Any_ way. Even if only for _this_. “It was meant to ensure that the marriage can't be annulled. Since annulling would mean war, we can both rest assured that neither of us is going to do it. So there's no need.”

For a split second, he could see him _gaping_. Then he scowled, red blotches appearing on his chest and neck and face – Anger. Embarrassment. _Hate_. His barrier was breaking.

“ _There's no_ _ **need**_?” he parroted, disbelieving, livid, his voice taking on a slightly higher tone. “We are _married_. We have _marital duties._ ”  
Ben didn't know whether he wanted to scream or cry. This was a nightmare. This was _hell_. He wouldn't be able to get aroused now if Armitage fell to his knees and sucked his cock. His lower lip quivered and he had to press his mouth into a tight line to stop it. No, he would not cry in front of this man. He absolutely refused to.

“ _Marital duties_ are for procreation,” he hissed, standing up and ripping the robes off of his body without any finesse and as unerotic as humanly possible. Armitage's jacket was still open but he held it closed with his hands, hiding his torso from view, eyebrows drawn together and jaw visibly clenched. “Since neither of us can pop out an heir, there's _no need_ for that either.”

His cape, remaining glove, jacket, and boots met the floor but he stopped there, keeping his pants, socks and his dark long-sleeved undershirt on. That way, he was still pretty much covered from head to toe but it was comfortable enough to sleep in. The mattress creaked miserably when he pretty much threw himself onto the bed, covering himself with the blanket that had been laying neatly folded by his feet.

Armitage was still standing there.

“The bed is big enough. Get in there and sleep. I'll take care of the candles.”

Finally, he moved around the bed to the other side. Ben kept his back to him, ignoring the sound of rustling fabric as Armitage undressed somewhere behind him. The mattress barely made a sound when the man slowly slipped under the covers.

Ben extinguished all of the candles with the force. 

If his pillow got wet from his silent tears, it was no one's business but his own.

Least of all his husband's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, guys. Please don't kill me.


	7. Had me swallowing all of my pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben fucks up royally. But, he also tries to mend his mistakes.

When Ben woke up, he was still curled up on his side with his back turned to his now-husband.

Back in the temple, he had been used to sleeping in the same bed with another person – But not like this. There had never been this sense of unease and discomfort and he had never felt the need to first probe through the force to figure out if his bedmate was awake or not out of fear of having to talk to them. And he really didn't want to talk to Armitage. His ridiculously heavy body was making it unnecessarily difficult to move without making any sounds as he sat up, a little disoriented and feeling even more exhausted than before going to bed last night. The plan was to stand up and go to his childhood room, hoping that his robes were still there. Knowing his mother, though, they were probably in the huge white wardrobe on Armitage's side of the room. Dammit.

Slowly, he slid his long legs out of bed and stood up, cringing, when the mattress made a miserable sound – almost like a relieved sigh – once his weight was lifted off of it. Armitage's unguarded energy was still serene, though, his sleep remaining undisturbed. Sneaking to the wardrobe, like a child trying to snoop around without his parents noticing, he approached and quietly opened it. His robes were in there, just as expected – All eight of them, clean and pressed, taking up almost no space at all on the left side. At least, there weren't any princely garments in there, courtesy of his mother.

Armitage had a lot more clothes than him, filling up his half completely. There wasn't much colour in there – Black, of course, varying shades of grey, muted teal, one dark-green tunic. Not a single light or bright colour. Their clothes looked weird inside of that white armoire, a stark contrast, totally out of place in the palace, in _Alderaan_. What a pair they made.

Finally, he blindly grabbed one of his robes – the longest one, the one that made him look like a 'terrifying monk' according to Rey – and a clean pair of pants.

When he turned to make his way to the door and hope that no one saw him returning to his childhood bedroom and its adjacent fresher, he couldn't help his eyes from straying to his husband. He stopped dead in his tracks.

The sun was only rising, it's light a beautiful mixture of gold and pink and orange – and it fell upon Armitage's sleeping form. He, too, had been sleeping on his side, his back turned to Ben's side of the bed, knees almost touching his chest in an uncharacteristically vulnerable position. His hands were slack, lying on the mattress next to the pillow where his head lay and he could see a bit of his naked shoulder where the blanket ended. Ben had never seen his hair out of its pomade-cage and it looked soft and shiny, fiery red with copper highlights, falling wildly into his forehead and sticking up a bit around his ears. It was disarming and beautiful and Ben found himself stepping a little bit closer, mesmerized by the lovely glow of his pale skin in the Alderaanian morning light and the golden lashes resting on top of those sharp cheekbones that looked a lot softer than usual.

It was only a second later, that he figured out why.

Ben hadn't been the only one crying last night.

He could clearly see the dried tears on that silky white skin and Armitage's lids looked a little puffy and just a little bit red. It made his heart sink and clench inside his chest. Yesterday had been a nightmare and he had been so wrapped up in his own suffering that he forgot that his husband was just as miserable as him, chained to a man he didn't want and caged in a home that wasn't his own. Armitage had loved his career, he knew that, and now he was discharged to play spouse to a Jedi Knight that never got to officially become part of the Order.

If Armitage was anything like him, it wouldn't take long for him to start wanting to crawl up the walls, unable to scratch the itch of the excitement that he had likely experienced while being in command of a spaceship. Ben, for his part, already craved the feeling of going on missions with Luke and other Padawans, wielding his lightsaber, _fighting_ , _sweating_ , _bleeding_.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there, staring at the relaxed features of Armitage's beautiful face, but when he finally snapped out of his trance, the sunlight that was brightening up the room was already fully golden.

“ _I like the rain._ ” was what Armitage had said 9 years ago and he wondered whether he missed it already. Ben had never been to Arkanis and, somehow, he was sure that it was a miserable place to live in. But it was home to this man.

He missed the temple, too.

Ben picked up his boots and went to his childhood bedroom. Rey's trinkets were still lying on his night table and when he pushed his pillow aside, he was relieved to find that her nightgown was still there. He couldn't leave it here, though.

After showering and dressing, he started looking for something like a small chest, preferably with a padlock. He didn't find anything but when a cleaning droid came to his room, he asked it to retrieve him something like that. A few minutes later, it returned with exactly what he had been looking for. He put the gown in first, neatly folded, and then the tiny locket with her strand of hair in it. However, he didn't want to put the other trinkets in there, after all, Armitage wouldn't be able to tell what they meant to him and who they were from. Returning to their shared chambers with something like dread, he prayed that the man was already up and eating breakfast downstairs.

Armitage was up – But he was still in their room. His hair was dark from its wet state, still dripping a bit of water unto his dark grey tunic, and he carded his fingers through it when he turned to look at Ben. The dried tears were gone, but his cheekbones still looked soft and his lids a little puffy. He wouldn't have been able to tell, though, hadn't he seen his face an hour prior.

“Good morning,” he offered awkwardly when they had been simply staring at each other for almost an entire minute. Armitage scowled.

“Where were you?” his husband asked, clearly irritated, and he felt like laughing when he realised how absurdly domestic that sounded. For a second it felt like they had already been married for years.

“Is this how it's going to be?” he couldn't help but snort, putting the three books he had taken with him inside his drawer before placing the small chest on his night table and then continuing to arrange the stones and coins and screws around it. “You, waiting for me in our chambers to interrogate me about my whereabouts?” There were hints of red blotches starting to appear on Armitage's neck and cheeks. “Where do you think I was?”

“I wouldn't be able to guess if I tried,” he said, his voice back to its usual calmness, not betraying any sort of emotion. It might have been convincing, if his face wasn't still red.

Ben couldn't help but roll his eyes before he turned to face his husband who was still standing by his side of the bed. It felt like there was an entire Galaxy between them, keeping them apart. Sighing, he finally told him: “I just went to get the last of my things from my childhood bedroom. Or did you want me to move back in there? Mother won't be happy but I'll comply if that's what you want.”

The red blotches finally disappeared and a little bit of tension seemed to seep out of his body as his glare softened to a curious look. Ben had no idea what this was all about.

“I see,” Armitage said, stiffly, his eyes flickering from the trinkets to Ben, clearly unsure if he should ask him about them or leave it. Just when he thought that he would be spared that particular line of questioning, he piped up again: “Why the stones and screws?”

“None of your business,” was Ben's kneejerk reaction after years over years of nosy Padawans asking him about them. Armitage's shoulders tensed again and he took a deep breath, pondering if he should apologise or not. It really wasn't any of the man's business but they _were_ married. So. “They're just trinkets. From missions.”

Gifts, actually. But Armitage didn't need to know that.

The answer seemed to appease him, though, and he simply nodded. For a moment, he was worried that he would ask about the small chest, too, especially the lock on the front.

“Will you finally join us for breakfast?”

Now, he would have preferred to tell him all about Rey's nightgown.

“I don't like eating in the morning,” was what he decided on and it wasn't even a complete lie. He wasn't hungry at that particular moment, probably because of the abundance of meat he had forced down his throat the day before.

Armitage nodded again, expressionless, but a second later his mouth opened once more: “Will you join us at lunch then?”

“What do you care?” he snapped, only now turning towards him. He was really thankful for the bed standing between them because when he saw one of those wet ginger strands falling loose across his forehead, he had the sudden urge to bury his fingers in his hair and mess it up to make it look like it did when he was still asleep. He wondered what it would look like when fucking him into the mattress. What his face would look like. If he would moan.

“I don't,” Armitage answered, his voice hard and cold, like his eyes. “But your parents do. They are always staring at the door, waiting for you to show up.”

The kriffing _nerve_.

“If they wanted to see me, all they had to do was seek me out,” he snarled, momentarily losing all composure. “But they didn't. Not once. Not even on my _wedding day_.”

Armitage's face remained expressionless.

“Relationships are not one-way roads,” he said, calmly, _apathetic_ , and it made Ben's blood boil. “If you hadn't been confining yourself in your room, the second we arrived at the palace, they might have considered it. Even if it had been only for a meal, just to signal that you weren't going to rip anyone's head off for daring to speak to you.”

“Are you really trying to tell me that _I_ should have been approaching them? After they didn't even tell me when my wedding would take place? Or that there was a _banquet_ waiting for me, even though I was barely holding myself up after a _week_ of starvation and fighting and _no kriffing sleep_?” he snarled and suddenly his husband was right there, in front of him – Ben hadn't even noticed that he had moved, let alone walked around the bed to get into Armitage's face. “Just for your information, I _did_ try to talk to my father two days ago. The conversation lasted about 10 minutes and all he talked about was _you_. That _you_ got to _help_ him with the ship when I hadn't even been allowed in the hangar? Do you enjoy your time with your buddy _Han_? Does he pat you on the head and tell you 'Good job, kid'?” Ben was almost panting at this point but he couldn't stop the words from coming – Not even when Armitage's back hit the wall, cornered, with Ben looming over him, trembling with anger. “Does mother stroke your cheek and make you tea? Read you a book perhaps? Do you get to braid her kriffing hair before she goes to sleep or do you just kiss her on the cheek when you bid her goodnight?”  
Ben could feel Armitage's breath ghosting over his lips as he exhaled, a little shakily, their eyes locked. The air between them felt hot and asphyxiating and he could see his husband's nostrils flaring just the tiniest bit.

“Careful, Ben,” he whispered, lifting his chin a bit and he couldn't help but lower his gaze to look at those red, soft lips that he had kissed just the day before. He knew how warm and wet that mouth was when pried open and he could only imagine how it would have felt like if Armitage had been just a little more pliant. Ben wanted to know what his tongue tasted like, what noise he would make if he just- “Jealousy is unbecoming of a man like you.”

He knew, even before he opened his mouth, that he would regret his next words: “Do you know what else is _unbecoming_? _You_ , trying to take my place, because your own parents won't give you the time of day. Or shall I say _father_? After all, his wife isn't your mother, is she?”

The slap that followed was as painful as it was deserved.

Armitage's face was even paler than usual and tense and he could see a muscle jump in his jaw as he stared Ben in the eye, clearly fighting to keep his composure. The force around him was rippling with hurt. Shame. Anger. Disappointment.

“Get out of my way,” he whispered with a hiss and Ben did so without missing a beat.

His cheek was stinging and he could tell that it was starting to bruise already.

Ben didn't say a word when Armitage banged the door shut.

Noon had come and past and the sunlight was already starting to turn into a fiery orange as it bled through the gaps of Ben's fingers. Luke was sitting next to him underneath a Chinar tree in the Palace garden, their chosen spot for meditation somewhat secluded, and he could feel his warm blue eyes on him. Ben didn't even have to say a word to the man when he sought him out after hours of self-pity and self-loathing for the cruel words he had directed at Armitage. An apology was inevitable, no matter how little he cared about the man. No one deserved having a brute like him thrusting a dagger into wounds that were most probably still open and hurting.

“I take it that your wedding night didn't go all that well,” Luke finally said, getting right to the point as per usual.

“No,” Ben confirmed, his voice low and calm. “We didn't consummate it. And I don't think we ever will.”

“Any particular reason for that?”

“Beside Armitage calling it our _marital duty_ , you mean?” he snorted, still feeling the disappointment and devastation from last night once he realised that his husband would have only slept with him because they were expected to do so. Ben refused to have sex with anyone for such a humiliating and depressing reason. Especially after already having had a taste of what it felt like with someone that cared about him as much as he cared about them.

Luke hummed, probably thinking his next words over carefully, considerate of the agitated state of Ben's aura. Even he himself could feel it, pulsating in the force with so much forlornness that it made him dizzy when he concentrated on it.

“Would you have wanted to if things had been different?” he asked, gently, without any judgement.

“Yes,” he admitted without even a beat of hesitation. He didn't feel embarrassed about talking to Luke about it – Not after realising that he had known about him and Rey and simply... let him. Because he wanted him to be happy above all else. “He's beautiful. I thought so even when I was 12.”

There was a low chuckle coming from Luke.

“I remember,” he told him and Ben would have gone beet-red if he hadn't long since accepted that he was an open book to his uncle, even now. His 12-year old self never stood a chance. “Your anger and fear disappeared the second you saw him. It was sweet, the way you stared at him the entire time as if he was an angel descended from heaven. I was surprised when you asked me to leave before breakfast and to block any attempts of contact from the Huxes. That smitten energy around you was gone so abruptly.”

“You never asked why,” Ben realised after a second, nostalgia and the pain of an old scar settling in the hollow of his chest.

“No. I didn't feel like I needed to. Armitage's energy had felt like a furnace of mislike and discomfort that day. I suspected that you realised at some point in the evening that he didn't feel the same way about you as you did about him.”

Even though, Ben had already known all of that, it still hurt. He had only been in love with the 17-year old Armitage for less than a day but it had been his first heartbreak, nevertheless. And now, he was bound to the source of the suffering and self-consciousness that he had never really gotten over, despite Rey's attempts to heal him.

“He told his friend that he thought me hideous.” Strange, how his feet and heart still went cold at the mere memory. “And that he hoped that I would return to the temple and he to his starship right after the wedding, so he wouldn't have to be with me.”

There was a pang of sympathy coming from Luke as he hummed, both their gazes turned towards the orange sky, streaks of red already licking away at it before it would eventually turn pink and then purple and then blue as night set in. A part of him had always missed the Alderaanian sky and it's changing of colours. It was breathtaking, no matter how often he witnessed it.

“And you think he still feels the same way?”

“My kiss was met with him freezing up and waiting for it to end,” he recounted, the humiliation and feeling of rejection still fresh in his mind. “He was stiff as a statue and purposefully ignored me by staring at the wall during the celebration dinner. And in the bedroom, he felt so much unease and fear that it even broke through his barrier.”

Ben sighed, curling his fingers around his knees, legs crossed.

“That is strange,” Luke remarked, his voice soft and wondering. “His barrier has been positively impenetrable when he arrived at the temple. I have trained him for years over our holochats. I wasn't sure if it was possible to teach anyone something so complex from such a distance but he did exceptionally well. He's better at it than you are, and he's force-null.”

“Thanks, uncle, I feel so much better now.”

Luke chuckled. “I think you actually do if your cheekiness is coming back already.”

At that, he couldn't help but smile a little despite everything. It was true, he did feel better after talking about it, even though it was sobering to have his suspicions confirmed. But at least that little hopeful voice in the back of his head was finally quiet, letting him look at his current situation with less inner turmoil. There was something he needed to address, though, to make sure that it _stayed_ silent.

“Armitage told me that he regularly asked for my mission reports. Is that true?”

Luke hummed.

“He did. A few months after your first introduction, he hailed me through your mother's holo-system and asked when your next meeting would be. I told him of your decision to honour the Jedi code regarding attachment despite the engagement.”

“How did he react?”

“There wasn't really a reaction. I think he said something along the lines of ' _That is sensible_ ' but not much else,” Luke told him and Ben could feel a hint of long-past worry and protectiveness resurfacing in his uncle's aura as his mind wandered back into the past. “Right after that, he asked me to teach him how to build a mind barrier. Your mother apparently told him about that particular skill of yours and that there was a way for him to keep his privacy around you. Sometimes, after the lessons, he would ask about your training progress and once you were allowed to partake in missions, he asked to read all of your reports.”  
Nothing about any of this made sense to Ben. Why ask about someone you don't care about? He didn't care about Armitage and wouldn't have even dreamed of keeping tabs on him. The thought had never even crossed his mind.

“Do you know why?” he asked, his confusion audible.

“I asked, of course, when he first made that request. He told me that his father was famous for his training techniques in the military and that the man had influenced the ways of teaching discipline and combat strategy at the Arkanis Academy. So, naturally, he was curious about how the Jedi training worked, how it would mold a force-sensitive child over the years and prove itself in the field. I think the exact wording was: ' _Reading his mission reports would be most educational_.'”

Ben snorted – Both at the sobering information and at Luke's scarily accurate imitation of the Arkanian accent and Armitage's overly formal way of speaking.

“That does sound like him.”

Luke hummed and they dropped the topic in favour of meditating together. They even went and opened two of Ben's angry jars connected to failures during missions long past and worked through them, freeing him of a little bit of baggage. It was always so much easier with his uncle there to guide him. He missed him already.

When Luke picked up on that thought, he let him see a glimpse of his mind.

 _I already miss you, too_.

Seeing his uncle off for the second time was just as painful as the first. The clouds glowed in a soft lavender colour, the sky freckled with the occasional pastel pink, as Ben watched the shuttle disappear behind them. His parents stood by his side while Armitage walked right back into the palace, leaving them alone. He hadn't looked at Ben once.

No one knew what to say or do.

 _Relationships are not one-way roads_.

“What's for dinner?” he asked as casual as possible, still staring up at the sky even though Luke's shuttle was long gone. Ben didn't need to look to know that his parents were positively shocked and unsure whether or not he was implying what they thought – no, _hoped_ – that he was implying.

His mother's voice was hopeful when she finally spoke up: “Roasted Gorak in Malla petals. You used to like that as a child.”

“There's some Chombak wine left from yesterday,” Han added as if trying to sweeten the deal. “Might as well empty it before it gets bad.”

Ben nodded, still staring at the clouds.

“Are the Huxes still here?” he asked because there was no way in hell he would eat with those terrible people around. Especially Brendol IV. was a menace to him with his stupid, fat mouth.

“No, dear,” his mother answered and there was something like pity in her voice. “They left, the second you two retired for the night.”

So, they hadn't even said goodbye to Armitage. Great, now he felt even worse about his hurtful words that morning. Ben hadn't had to apologise to anyone for a while now since the last few years at the temple had been the most peaceful time of his life and his control had been at its peak. When he had to make up for something, it was usually done silently with a present or a gesture or an offer of help. He didn't know what Armitage would enjoy for a present, there was no physical gesture that he would want from Ben and, as far as he knew, the man didn't need any help that Ben could provide.

“Ah,” he said and finally turned to his parents. Both were looking at him expectantly, but also like they didn't want to get their hopes up. There was still bitterness in him that they hadn't approached him themselves. After all, they had failed him in every respect since their reunion, but he also knew that absolutely nothing would change if he didn't make that first step. While he didn't agree with Armitage's view of things, the man had a point. When there were three stubborn and proud people, one had to relent eventually.

Might as well be him.

“I want my old seat,” he told them and his mother was positively beaming at him. “And I want the Gorak legs. I hate the fatty belly parts.”

“Sure thing, kid,” Han told him, smiling, his energy nervous and relieved at the same time. “Sure thing.”

Dinner was awkward and quiet. It was obvious that Armitage was mad at him and his parents seemed to have picked up on that, too. They probably suspected that their wedding night had been entirely sexless. Conflicted with their loyalties towards each of them, they apparently decided that they would handle the difficult interpersonal situation like they always handled those: Ignoring it away, not picking any side, and just eating silently, throwing them concerned glances.

Armitage sat opposite him but his eyes hadn't strayed to him even once. Even though he knew that he deserved it, it still irritated him to no end.

Once they had all eaten up and emptied their respective glasses of wine, Armitage excused himself.

“Shitty wedding night?” Han asked with an air of nervous humour when the door closed behind his frosty husband. A second later his aura already starting to fill up with fear of Ben's reaction.

Deciding not to let it get to him, he simply hummed in confirmation, delaying the moment he had to join his husband in their shared chambers.

“Weird,” Han said, shaking his head. “From all the things I expected you two to struggle with, sex wasn't one of them.”  
He and his mother cringed in unison as she whisper-hissed a mortified ' _Han_!', making the situation even more awkward than before.

“Well, then you thought wrong,” was all Ben had to say about the matter, pouring himself another glass, just to down it with one long gulp. “I think, I'll go to bed.”

Of course, his father had to up the ante: “Maybe you'll get lucky this time, son!”

Ben suddenly remembered why he hated talking to him.

Armitage wasn't in their bedroom when he went upstairs. Of course, he could have just went to bed in hopes that tomorrow would get better, but he didn't think that his husband worked that way. Sighing, he felt for him in the force which was decidedly more difficult than expected due to that mind barrier of his. Following the pull of the force, he wandered through the corridors and slowly began to get an idea of where the man might have disappeared to.

The library. What else did he expect?

When he opened the door, he saw him right away, reading the back of a thick book and only looking up briefly. The scowl he received before being thoroughly ignored once again, was well-deserved.

Armitage put the book back.

“Are you looking for something specific?” he asked only for the sake of saying _something_.

“No.”

Well, at least he got an answer.

Approaching him hesitantly, he saw him tense with every step that diminished the distance between them. Coming to a halt next to him, he took a look at the books in front of them. Nonfiction. Thick. Some of them looked interesting enough, as they were about the Clone Wars, but Ben was pretty biased in that respect. Ever since Luke told him of Anakin Skywalker and how he found his way back to the Light, his entire perspective on the man had changed. Reading his name now felt quite different: There was excitement. And compassion. And curiosity since he was told that they had been quite alike. Even a weird sense of pride, though, he felt conflicted with that particular emotion due to the Darth Vader thing. The _Jedi Killer_ thing.

Armitage's long, elegant fingers touched the back of a book about the evolution of podracers.

“My grandfather used to be a podracing legend,” Ben told him and his husband stilled. “He won his first race when he was just nine years old.”

Armitage finally looked at him. It was obvious that he thought he was talking bantha shit.

“No, really,” he insisted and looked for another book – One that he had liked to look at before he found out that Anakin Skywalker had also been Darth Vader. When he found it, he pulled it out and flipped to the page he wanted, like muscle memory. “There. The first human to win a podrace.”

  
_Anakin Skywalker_

_Age: 9_

_Owner: Watto_

There was a picture of a child with blond hair and blue eyes, skin tanned from the Tattoine sun and clad in tattered slave rags as he sat on a podracer that looked more like a piece of junk than an actual vehicle. The kid was smiling but his eyes were those of someone who knew only suffering. As a child himself, he hadn't noticed. Now, it was crystal clear to him.

“He was a slave?”

Ben almost smiled when Armitage's voice sounded as cold as always but without the hiss of anger behind it. At least, this was familiar.

“Yes. He was a slave before he was found and brought to the Jedi Temple,” he explained, closing the book before putting it back. “Not the current one, obviously.”

“I know. The Jedi Temple of the Old Republic was in Coruscant.”

“It was,” Ben said, not exactly surprised that he knew about that, but weirdly pleased. Then, he steered the topic back to the book. “Do you like podraces?”

Armitage seemed to hesitate before he quietly answered: “I only watched one race when I was 15. It was an illegal one in Sind'looch, a slum district, East of Wyttersmoond. My father had forbidden me to mingle with _that sort of people_ and I was glad he never found out. I only took the risk once, though.”

“Is that a _yes_?”

Ben could swear that he saw one corner of Armitage's mouth twitch upwards for the barest of seconds.

“Yes. It is.”

They were still each turned towards the shelf instead of each other and his husband was still scanning to backs of the books, clearly for the sole purpose of not returning Ben's sidewards gaze. This was still more than he had hoped for after their terrible start in what should have been a honeymoon if they held any love for each other. Or even just lust. Though, Armitage was the only one lacking in that.

Ben thought about fucking him against this very bookshelf as they were speaking, holding him up by the ass and the back of his slim thighs.

“Do you read novels?” he asked and Armitage seemed to hesitate, though, he couldn't say why.

“Rarely,” he finally answered and there was something guarded about his voice and the tension of his shoulders. As if he was worried about the reaction his answer would elicit. “I prefer nonfiction.”

“I figured.”

For a second those blue eyes flickered in his direction. He didn't know what it meant. Worried that he might have taken that as an insult, he quickly added: “There's a novel I quite like. About a young Xexto living on a scrapyard with his sister, near a slum somewhere on Troiken. The sister gets abducted and is presumably sold into slavery, so he starts podracing – Both to earn money and to qualify for the Boonta Eve Classic Race on Tattoine, where he suspects he might find her.”

“That... doesn't sound too bad. For a novel.”

“Do you-” he starts – stops – and then starts again; “Do you want to read it?” Armitage finally looked at him, his expression unreadable. “I have it upstairs. In my drawer. If you're interested.”

He seemed to hesitate, his fingers still brushing the back of a random book. But then he nodded and said: “I would like that.”

It wasn't quite an apology.

But it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be fooled into believing that all is well now, peoples. Enjoy the calm before the storm for as long as it lasts!
> 
> Sind'looch (Derived from the German word 'Gesindel', meaning: lowlives/common folk; and the Northern German word 'Luch', meaning: marshy meadow)
> 
> Wyttersmoond (Derived from the German word 'Gewitter', meaning: thunderstorm; and the German word 'Mund', usually meaning mouth, but in this context it is used in the same way Game of Thrones translated 'King's Landing' to 'Königsmund')  
> In this Universe Wyttersmoond is the Captial City of Arkanis. The Arkanis Academy is also situated there.


	8. All this time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is a reckless idiot when bored and Poe joins the painparty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone here ships Gingerpilot - I don't, but Poe fits the part I gave him perfectly!
> 
> And I have a confession to make: I actually /like/ the prequels. And I love podracing - That was probably obvious what with the ending part of the last chapter but still. Just so you know.  
> AND: I think Ben flying shit is fucking hot, so here's a little bit of podracer!Ben.  
> Enjoy!

A month passed. It felt like an entire year.

Despite Ben's best efforts to somehow make himself fit back into the palace, and therefore back into his role as a son, he was the loneliest that he has ever been. Even during the first few days of his return when no one had talked to him, he hadn't felt _this_ lonely. Because then, he had been by himself – Now, he was constantly surrounded by people and yet-

And yet.

It was obvious that no one knew how to handle Ben actually being around. The first few days, there had been uncomfortable silence during every meal that he had forced himself to attend. Then, slowly, conversations started and, suddenly, there was more talking than eating happening. Mother talked about diplomatic talks, about conflicts between planets, about the increase of attacks on smaller starships and military bases across the New Republic from an extremist group that called itself 'The First Order'. Father contributed to that particular discussion with his intimate knowledge of hiding places in the Outer Rim where those 'First Order sons of banthas' might have encamped.

Apart from that, Han mostly talked about the ships he was working on. Despite them being filthy rich, he enjoyed repairing the worst pieces of junk he could find to then go on and sell them on the Coruscant market.

Armitage knew about politics. Armitage knew about ships. Armitage was knowledgable on absolutely every subject his parents could even think of broaching. Their discussions were lengthy and, apparently, very helpful and interesting to absolutely everyone but Ben.

Because Ben had nothing to contribute. He knew virtually nothing about politics or engineering.

Back in the temple, it was easy to converse when he had to. Amongst Padawans common subjects tended to be saber techniques, ways to use the force, Jedi war heroes and battles against the Sith, legends, missions, and philosophies on their way of living. With Rey he talked about the voices in his head and how the Dark was always whispering in his ear at night.

He couldn't talk about any of those things with the three people currently sitting on the breakfast table.

While his mother was force sensitive to a certain degree, she has never been properly trained and never really showed any interest in it either, let alone in the Jedi ways of living. She was a war hero but she hadn't been involved in _that_ particular part of the war. Han knew even less as a force-null. And Armitage – Well. Apparently, he knew a little bit about those things from his conversations with Luke over the years, but he and Ben weren't exactly on speaking terms.

Ben usually woke up around sunrise while the other man was still asleep, showered, dressed and then left for meditation. They saw each other during meals and shortly after dawn Ben went to bed without his husband. He didn't know when Armitage usually joined him but he would guess sometime around midnight. They had only went to bed at the same time _once_ and it had been the most awkward thing ever. Neither of them had wanted to undress in front of the other, so Armitage let him use the fresher first, waited for him to finish with a book in hand, and then did his own preparations for the night by himself. The most they saw of each other's skin was their necks and hands. (Though Ben vividly remembered what Armitage's torso looked like when exposed.)

Conversations were stilted and usually consisted of 'Did your training go well?' and 'Is that book interesting?' and both their answers to those questions were 'Yes'. That was it.

Speaking of books – Armitage never offered him his novel back and Ben never asked. Mostly because he still felt bad about what he said regarding his relationship to his parents. And, in part, because it was nice to think that Armitage liked _something_ connected to him. At least, he assumed that he liked it because his husband seemed to go through a 700-page book in less than three days and yet Ben sometimes caught glimpses of him reading his novel, even though it barely had 300 pages.

So, he was either re-reading the book for the nth time or it was so bad that he struggled to finish it.

Ben told himself it was the former option.

After another breakfast during which he was nothing but an awkward bystander, he went on to train in the garden like he usually did. Except, he was getting tired of it. Training wasn't the same without the other Padawans or at least Rey or Luke. Without an opponent, he was basically only doing moves that he already knew with a glowing stick in hand. It was pointless.

Bored, he contemplated going to his mother's office like he had done a week ago in an effort to 'get to know her better'. He had felt like a child, sitting there, watching her work. At one point, she made him get Armitage for her, so she could get his opinion on some defence strategy for the Corulagan military base that had suffered a terrorist attack a few days prior. He did find him for her, told him that she needed his help with something and then went on to spend the rest of the day doing... nothing.

No, he wouldn't do that again.

For a second he considered trying to meditate again as he had in the beginning when he had been trying to work through some of his jars for hours during the day. However, it was getting increasingly difficult to do so.

Ben was restless. His energy was off, vibrating, pulsating, and the voices in his head hadn't been that loud for years. Two days ago, he had woken from a nightmare – or a vision. He wasn't sure. It was the man he had slain during the Trial of the Spirit, masked and hooded, his lightsaber red and clearly unstable. The deep, distorted voice spoke of power and of a master waiting for him. That he could teach him what no Jedi master could.

Armitage had woken him up by throwing a pillow at him and Ben had never been so thankful for the fact that his husband was an asshole when he saw no reason to be polite.

So, meditation was out of the question for now.

Like a caged animal, Ben found himself pacing in the garden, in the corridors, in the halls, unnerving all of the servants he passed. Nothing. There was nothing.

Han would kill him if he knew that Ben was on his way to the hangar in this state, but thankfully he had left after breakfast to deliver some repaired vehicles to the Coruscant market. Obviously, Ben knew nothing about the work of a mechanic or the like, so it was pointless for him to walk and take a look at all those junk ships and bikes and-

Podracers.

There was a podracer.

He knew it was a shit idea, the second it popped up, but he would probably trash the entire hangar out of boredom if he didn't do it. Despite the very high likelihood of the podracer being defective in some way, Ben eagerly climbed into the seat. From what little he had picked up during his father's conversations with Armitage, Han usually didn't start painting stuff until it was fully functioning – and since there was some fresh-looking paint in orange on one of the engines, he decided to just take the risk. What was the worst that could happen? Ben dying? Honestly, at this point, he preferred wrapping himself around a tree over vegetating inside the palace walls.

Luke, having been a pilot in the Resistance, had always encouraged Ben to learn how to fly several types of vehicles. In fact, Ben had always been the first pick for missions that required a good pilot and he only ever crashed once.

Sure, he never flew a podracer before but he was an intuitive pilot and quick to get a handle on new things if he set his mind to it. Luke told him once that flying was in the Skywalker blood and that the Solo genes probably helped a great deal, too.

When he started the vehicle, feeling it come to life underneath his hands, the charged force around him finally stopped choking him from all sides. He wondered if his grandfather had felt the same, 9 years old, suffocating with all that uncontrolled power and forced to live in slavery.

If a 9-year old Anakin Skywalker with no prior knowledge to vehicles of any kind could learn to fly a podracer by himself, then a 21-year old Ben Organa-Solo – Or Ben Skywalker, as he liked to think of himself in his own head – could, too. With a few flips on the control panel, the engines fired up and he barely managed to avoid crashing into one of the shuttles standing around as he leaned into the handlebars to get the kriff out of there.

 _Goggles would have been a great idea_ , he thought, as he left the hangar, feeling the wind whip against his face and, subsequently, into his eyeballs. It was a little distracting and annoying to keep his face protected with a force shield, but he had no other option if he didn't want to end up blind by the end of his little trip. Leaves flew up into the air as he brushed a tree, pulling the handlebars up, up, up, to gain more height – and then he was flying over tree crowns and lakes and endless fields of green. When he reached a part of the surrounding forest where trees were sparse with plenty of room in between, he dared to get lower, testing his reflexes as he turned left and right and up and down, avoiding tree trunks and branches, trying not to lose too much speed while doing so. It was really difficult, what with the engines and cockpit being almost completely separate, forming an unstable U, but with a few nudges through the force, he successfully kept all parts of the podracer from crashing against obstacles. He completely lost any sense of time as he raced through the air, only checking the fuel gauge from time to time with a quick glance, happy to put as much distance between himself and the palace for as long as possible. He crossed two or three other pilots, one of them manning a small X-wing fighter, clearly, a member of the Resistance. They had nodded at each other as Ben passed him.

When the sky started to turn orange, slowly bleeding into red, he knew that he had to return now. With a now perfectly practised somersault, he turned towards the palace. It was only a small fleck somewhere in the distance but even blind Ben would have known where to go.

He had missed lunch and as it seemed, he wouldn't make it for dinner, either. Han was probably back by now, too. Wondering whether Han would be mad at him or pleased that Ben was doing _something_ that he enjoyed himself, he noticed too late that one of his engines was dying.

“Kriffing hell-” he swore as the dead engine pulled the entire podracer down, while the other was still running and quickly starting to make the entire thing spin. Like a tornado, the podracer descended into the forest, hacking into the trees in circular motions and all Ben could do was trying to protect himself by feathering the crash of the cockpit with the force.

The functioning engine wrapped itself around a tree just before they reached the ground, the cockpit flinging around the tree trunk. Despite his best efforts to cushion his own collision with the tree, he felt the impact like smashing into a wall, feeling pain for a split second before losing consciousness.

_**There was the blurry face of a young man** , a **l** m **o** st t **r** ans **p** arent, **g** lowing like a-_

“Skrogging hell, that kriffer is **heavy** -”

When he tried to open his eyes, he was momentarily blinded by the brightness of the room. A familiar voice was saying something but he couldn't understand a word, all sounds muffled as if someone had shoved cotton into his ears. There was a flash of red – no, ginger, it was Armitage's hair – and his right hand felt colder than it did a second before, though he couldn't tell why.

His eyes closed again, but only for a split second before the voices of his parents broke through the cotton in his ears, prompting him to stay awake.

It took a moment before their faces sharpened enough to even tell who was who and Ben made a miserable sound as he registered the pain on his left shoulder, ribs, hip and the side of his head.

“ _What the_ _ **kriff**_ _where you thinking, you_ _ **frizzled**_ _,_ _ **blaster-brained son of a**_ _-_ ”

“ _Do you know how_ _ **worried**_ _we were_ -”

“- _ **blaster**_ _! You could have been_ _ **dead**_ _, you_ _ **crinking stoopa**_ -

“- _just_ _ **gone**_ _and then one of my pilots comms me to_ -”

“- _ **carking laserbrain**_ _of yours_ -”

“Alright, that's enough,” Armitage's soft but commanding voice interjected, finally stopping the assault of noise that made him feel like his brain was going to explode if they didn't stop yelling. “Shouting at him will not undo the accident.”

“I gotta agree with the pretty one,” an unfamiliar voice with a Yavinian accent said.

It took a moment before Ben realised that whoever that guy was had just called his husband _the pretty one_.

Trying to sit up, he immediately felt two strong hands pushing him back down with only as much force as necessary and clearly considerate of the damaged side of his body. Turning his head a bit, he saw a handsome face that he vaguely recognised as the pilot from the X-wing fighter. A cocky smile grazed the man's lips and brown eyes were looking at him with obvious amusement glittering in them.

“I gotta say, I was very impressed until you decided to commit suicide by treewrapping,” the man told him and Ben could feel himself scowl. “You see that? Awake for barely a minute and he's already pissed.”

There was an amused snort.

It came from Armitage.

Only then did he remember that he had found a podracer among his father's repair projects and, like an idiot, decided to use it. In hindsight, it was one of the most stupid things he had ever done, but he did also remember the immense restlessness that had led to that reckless decision.

“The kriff are you,” he managed to mutter, his voice rough and even deeper than usual. The hands were still on him and that was when Ben noticed that there was direct skin contact happening. “Get your hands off me-”

“Alright, alright! Sorry, man!” the man quickly relented, laughing, as he finally retreated and Ben sat up despite the protests of every single person in the kriffing room. “Hey man, take it easy, you took quite the hit.”  
Groaning, he managed to get into a seating position, his back leaning against the headboard. He was shirtless and there was a thick coat of bactagel spread on his left side where he could see some patches looking red and fleshy, his skin chafed off. The pain in his ribs and hip was excruciating, enough so, that he could see the glass of water on the side table vibrating from the tortured force energy around him.

His parents stared at him with the weirdest mixture of anger and relief he had ever seen and he quickly averted his gaze, turning his head to look at Armitage instead. His _loving_ husband who stood a few steps away, his face as expressionless and unaffected as always. Of course, he didn't care about any of this. Actually, he was most probably disappointed that Ben had survived. Well, he was kinda disappointed about that, too.

“I'm Poe Dameron, by the way,” the handsome man with the tanned skin and the irritatingly magnificent head of hair said, offering him his hand. Ben didn't take it, instead, he threw the man one of the scariest looks he could manage. It worked if the nervous chuckle that escaped the man as he retreated was anything to go by.

“Don't be rude, Ben,” his mother chastised him and he rolled his eyes, wishing that he was dead. “He saved your life and brought you home!”

True. He couldn't quite tell where that anger towards the man came from. Or at least, he refused to.

“Thank you for saving my life and bringing me home,” he rattled out like reading a script, sounding about as sincere as he did when telling Luke that he was fine over their very frequent holochats.

That didn't seem to bother the man at all as he winked, saying: “You're very welcome.”

“We should let him rest,” Armitage's voice piped up, ever the sensible one, his voice as frosty as the icepack he longed for to dull the pain on his temple. His mother kissed him on the forehead, Han patted him awkwardly on the knee and that handsome pilot winked _again_ before leaving. Surprisingly, his husband was still there, standing perfectly still as if he had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

“Didn't you say that I needed rest?” he asked, irritated and in pain and just feeling like a kriffing idiot that needed saving from such a nerf herder like Poe Dameron. “Go talk to your new friend if you're looking for entertainment.”

Armitage didn't rise to the bait at all, he just cocked an eyebrow at him as he came a little bit closer.

“I will leave once you drink this,” he told him, taking the glass of water and handing it over. Reluctantly, he accepted it. Ben wanted to just down it but ended up choking on the first big gulp when the horrid taste on his tongue registered in his brain. “There is a strong dose of narcotics in there. For the pain.”

Feeling dizzy all of a sudden, Armitage had to catch the glass as it slipped from his weakening grip. He wanted to say something, but his mouth wasn't cooperating and his husband was shushing him as if he knew exactly what kind of curses he wanted to throw at him. Honestly, Ben thought he was done with people (usually Luke) sedating him without his consent, but apparently not.

Despite his sleepiness, he still jumped a bit when Armitage's bare, slender, elegant hand touched his hot naked skin, right where his neck met his shoulder, directing him to sink back into a lying position – which was pretty difficult with sedated legs and a hurting hip, but somehow he felt the back of his head gliding unto and over the pillow, his sweat-damp hair catching a bit on the cotton.

There was a warm pressure on his chest, and as his lids slipped close, he felt long fingers gently stroking some stray hairs from his damp forehead.

Before he lost consciousness again, he heard the lowest of whispers: “...I really hate you.”

Ben spent three days lying in bed like a vegetable while the bacta did its magic, helping his skin regrow in a matter of hours and taking care of the hurt flesh beneath. His shoulder and hip had it the worst as they had suffered the first and strongest impact but they hardly even hurt at this point. Interestingly enough, his injuries weren't the worst part of the entire ordeal: It was the fact that suddenly every resident in the palace decided that Ben needed company _constantly_.

While he had craved attention before, he now longed for at least one or two minutes of solitude. Apparently they were all only capable of either ignoring him or suffocating him. He couldn't even say what was the worst: His parents forcing idle conversation despite not sharing a single interest with their son, or having Armitage sitting on the other side of the room with Poe Dameron in tow _every single time_. While his husband only ever said ' _Good morning/evening_ ', ' _Stop scratching your wounds_ ', ' _You need to drink_ ' and ' _Try to sleep_ ' to him, Poe Dameron decided that he had to entertain them both with his entire life story. Ben couldn't care any less about the man's anecdotes and jokes and he wanted to strangle him any time he tried to strike up an actual conversation with him, asking him shit like ' _Can you make this float?_ ' and ' _I heard you can hear thoughts, what colour am I thinking of?'._

However, nothing was worse than having to listen to the bastard _flirting_ with Armitage three steps away from him when he thought Ben was sleeping.

“Wow, you spent almost a decade in space?” Poe asked even though he had just been told _exactly that_. “No wonder your skin is that flawless.”

“It's pasty-white,” Armitage snorted, unexpectedly self-conscious and dismissive of the compliment. As if people weren't constantly gushing about his good looks – which Ben _knew_ they were. “I look dead.”

“Bantha shit!” For once Ben agreed with the man. “It looks like milk.” _Ivory_. “And it suits you really well. Especially with that hair. You look kinda mystical like that.” _Ethereal_. “I like it.”

It took all of his willpower not to crush him against the wall with the force. Especially since he didn't even use the _right_ words. And for fuck's sake, he was his _husband_ and he was _right here_. The only reason why he didn't intervene was – Actually, he didn't even know why he was just lying there and listening to all that instead of telling the man to kriffing leave.

Maybe he wanted to see the reaction. Find out if Armitage would have liked a handsome man like Poe instead of... well. Him.

Armitage didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, almost shyly, he mumbled: “Thanks.”

“Doesn't your hubby over there tell you how good you look? I mean, you're newly-weds, shouldn't he be all over you?”

A beat of silence.

“Ben isn't the type to be all over anyone,” Armitage finally said, his voice absolutely neutral and the answer perfectly diplomatic – and completely untrue. Rey would have doubled over laughing if she heard that one. “And he's not very vocal about... things like that.”

Rey would be crying tears by now.

“Well, he should be,” Poe said, his energy clearly telling Ben that the man wasn't buying what Armitage was selling. And that he was getting excited.

It was time to 'wake up'.

Groaning, he flopped from his unharmed side to his back, stretching and grabbing the headboard as he did so, fully aware of the fact that his naked, _ripped_ arms were very much visible when he did that. Poe Dameron may be leagues above him when it came to looks but Ben absolutely beat him in terms of strength. He could knock that bastard out with a single punch and he wanted him to be fully aware of that.

“Look, Sleeping Beauty has returned from the dead!”

If the man hadn't saved his life, he would have killed him by now.

“And the lone musketeer is still here,” he deadpanned, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “Do you have nowhere else to be?”

“At the moment? No.” he chuckled. “Your mother actually invited me to stay for a while. As a thank-you gift.” Of course, she did. “And I find that I quite like the company.”

Armitage, who was sitting on the chair by the door as per usual and had been looking at Ben when he turned his head, lowered his gaze back to his book. Not the one Ben lent him but something about the inner workings of radar systems that Poe had asked about earlier before admitting that he understood absolutely nothing of what Armitage was talking about. To be honest, he hadn't either.

He didn't know what his husband was feeling or thinking since his face was as closed off as his mind and his aura. Ben felt like kicking something.

“I can't say the same,” is all he said and he could have sworn that he heard Armitage snort a bit at that. It felt oddly exhilarating.

“Are you always this charming?” the frustratingly handsome and witty pilot asked, clearly amused despite everything.

They were both surprised when the answer came from Armitage: “Always.”

Poe laughed. Ben scowled.

Armitage... did nothing.

As _always_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were a LOT of prequel easter eggs in this lol And jealous!Ben is like one of the best things ever, so here we go.
> 
> Btw.: A lot of people find Ben's relationship to his parents a little confusing which I totally understand because Ben is a little bit of an unreliable narrator and that makes it quite difficult to make things 'clear'/'obvious' and, maybe, some of you don't share my point of view when it comes to Han & Leia's personalities. Which is totally fine, I just hope it doesn't rub some people the wrong way. If anyone's interested to read a bit about why they do what they do in this fic, I recommend you to read my long-ass comment on chapter 7 lol 
> 
> P.S.: A cookie for everyone that guesses who the young man is that Ben sees before blacking out. A tip: It's not Poe!  
> That's it from me, I hope I didn't bore you all with the podracing thing!


	9. Where this part of you came from

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben has a melt-down. But there is a light at the of the tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Ben is officially suffering from depression at this point. Nothing that happens in this chapter after the comment about the dress was planned, so this is messy and a bit short but eh. Enjoy the tidbit of angst and a tiny sprinkle of comfort.

The first morning after being released from the sick ward Ben slept in, his body still recovering and missing even another session of meditation. Not that he cared at this point. Meditation was something that he used to enjoy, but now he dreaded the voices whispering inside his head and the crackling red light of a saber that felt all to familiar. The darkness beckoning him to just see-

Luke would be so very disappointed in him if he knew that Ben was running from his demons instead of facing them. He should be stronger after the Jedi Trials. He should be better than this. But that was then. That was another Ben. Stable. Understood. Calm. Loving. _Loved_.

Ben was alone in bed when he turned on his back, the light of the Alderaanian sun warm and golden already and the sky a lovely pastel blue. The warmth made him feel sleepy and, usually, also content – But not today. There wasn't a content bone in his body. Even thinking about standing up and having to go through another pointless day surrounded by people who still felt more like strangers than family, made him want to drink an entire bottle of the wretched narcotics Armitage had made him down in the sick ward.

Ben sat up in bed, carding his fingers through his hair and out of his face, blinking any remaining sleep out of his eyes. A slight shiver ran down his back as he was unused to sleeping topless by now. Strange, how fast the habit of sleeping naked, that he had maintained for years in the temple while curled around an equally naked Rey, had been replaced by him trying his best to keep all of his skin covered up, back turned towards the window as he stuck by the very edge of the bed. What a lonely and suffocating way to spend the night.

However, now that Armitage had already seen his upper body naked, Ben didn't see the point of putting on a shirt anymore. He ran hot anyway and it wasn't like they had ever even come close to touching while under the covers.

Pondering whether or not he wanted to take a shower now or wait until after training (that he shouldn't be doing for at least another week but Ben didn't know what else to do with his time), he only then noticed the perfectly folded stack of clothing by the foot of the bed. Something black, something teal-

Oh.

When the door to the fresher opened, Armitage froze on the spot, staring at him as if he didn't belong in this room. Which he probably didn't, at least not around this hour, and especially not while his husband was practically naked. Ben couldn't keep his eyes from lowering to the bared torso that he had only seen once, illuminated by nothing but candlelight. He was slender and not overly muscular, but he was athletic and his skin was almost hairless except for the trail of red hair leading from his lovely belly button to places that were hidden underneath a towel.

Ben was glad for the blanket pooling in his lap because his body was weak and terrible and sex-starved and it was absolute torture to look at all that creamy skin that he would never come to touch.

When his gaze finally returned to Armitage's face, the man jerked as if he had burnt himself, red blotches appearing on his chest and neck and cheeks. With a scowl, his husband came closer, snatched his clothes from the bed and disappeared back into the bathroom.

Even his back was gorgeous.

Deciding that he would definitely train later, he stood up and dressed in his longest robe to hopefully conceal his morning wood until he eventually succeeded in willing it away by pure stubbornness. Now that he thought about it, he noticed that he hadn't even touched _himself_ ever since Luke put him in a shuttle on his way to the Trials. The mere idea of doing that hadn't even crossed his mind because he had been so incredibly miserable, especially lying next to the coldest fish of a man in the entire Galaxy.

Ben wouldn't even know what to fantasize about anymore. Even the thought of Rey's face was enough to make him want to drown himself, unable to bear the memory of what it had felt like to be loved and wanted by someone. His husband was out of the question too, no matter how often he would come to catch glimpses of his naked body. Back in the temple, he _had_ touched himself thinking about the man. But Armitage hadn't been much more than a vague memory at that point and the sex he conjured inside his head was always angry and brutal and desperate. Ben had been older in those fantasies and handsome enough to make him desirable to the ever 17-year old Armitage who willingly opened his legs for him. He would beg to be fucked by him and Ben would pound into that pliant, beautiful body as if he wanted to punish him. Which he probably did.

Now, knowing the 26-year old Armitage, that fantasy has lost it's appeal, too. It was impossible to even imagine his husband as anything but detached and unresponsive, taking his dick out of some fucked up sense of duty, like a chore.

Ben's morning wood wilted in record speed.

It was ironic that it took marriage for Ben to finally be chaste.

Downstairs, Poe Dameron was already sitting at the breakfast table, drinking a cup of what appeared to be caf. His dark curls were messy, but artfully so, his defined jaw covered with a three-day beard that only amplified his masculinity and seemed as well-kept as the man's thick eyebrows. The softer aspects of his face complimented the man, too – Such as his ridiculously long eyelashes, big chocolate coloured eyes and the little gap between his front teeth. He wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, staring at the man that his husband had spent every day with ever since his accident, but when he looked up and saw Ben, his gaze immediately dropped to his clothes.

“Nice dress,” the bastard commented, a stupidly attractive grin playing across his lips.

Scalding hot anger rushed through his body, combined with humiliation and what he couldn't deny was nothing but ugly, green-eyed jealousy. Ben was a second away from doing something that he would absolutely regret but to Poe's never-ending luck, his parents decided to enter the room at that very moment.

“Good morning, son,” Han greeted him with a pat on the back, leading him to the table as if he knew that Ben felt like storming into the garden and hacking a tree into pieces. Poe greeted his parents politely with a charming smile, as if he hadn't obviously tried to antagonise their son a minute ago.

“We're really glad that you're feeling better, Ben,” mother told him with a smile as she sat down and gestured for him to do the same. Ben hummed as he took his seat, not trusting himself to open his mouth as long as he was that kriffing livid.

Poe clearly wanted to die a slow and painful death, though, since he didn't seem to be able to shut up, even with Queen-General Leia in the room: “Where is that lovely husband of yours?”

“Upstairs,” he answered through gritted teeth, aggressively piling an obscene amount of ruica on his plate, just to keep himself from using his hands for something more murderous. Had Armitage confided in the man about their non-existent sex-life? Had he lamented his husband's unfortunate looks while letting himself be flattered and wooed by this kriffing asshole? Surely, those two would have already been fucking if it wasn't for him. Ben couldn't even blame Armitage.

Not only was Poe objectively good-looking, but he was also older than him and, therefore, a lot more experienced, just like his husband. After all, Ben was barely 21 – A child compared to both of them. - and, as far as Armitage factually knew, a virgin.

Not for the first time, the ugly part of his brain wondered how many people Armitage had slept with during those 9 years. If he had been sexually active even before they met.

Ben stilled.

What if- No. No, Armitage wouldn't- Except that he might. There was nothing holding him back from fucking Poe Dameron. Nothing. Divorce meant war, so they wouldn't do it no matter what happened between them. Ben had told him so himself.

His husband was only a man and a man had needs that Ben obviously wasn't meeting.

Nausea hit him so hard, he almost regurgitated his entire meal in front of every single person in the room – Which now also included Armitage. His mental state must be a lot worse than he previously thought if he didn't even notice another person entering the room. Their eyes met for a long, uncomfortable moment in which the other man looked like he was trying to figure something out.

Air. He needed air.

“I'm going to train in the garden,” he announced as he stood abruptly, not meeting anyone's eye and then quickly making his way out of the door.

The weather was beautiful but it did nothing to dampen the onslaught of emotions hitting him left and right as his traitorous mind provided him with images of long, pale legs wrapped around a tanned upper body, graceful fingers seeking purchase in dark, curly hair as moans filled their marital room.

With a heated cry, he ignited his lightsaber and immediately started hacking into one of the trees, ignoring the way his newly healed shoulder seemed to burn underneath his skin. There was fire licking at his bones, scorching him from the inside, making his heart shrivel into a black lump. His robes felt far too thick and heavy as if the fabric was trying to suffocate him, to cage him in, to pull him down, down, down-

Luke would have already force-sedated him at this point.

Luke wasn't here.

Suddenly, all of that fury seeped out of his pores, leaving him hollow and ashen, his insides heavy and hard like bricks of coal. The tree was ruined but at least it was still standing thanks to its ridiculously thick circumference. Ben fell to his knees, lightsaber off, staring at the damage he had done. He was confused and scared and just... lost. He was lost.

It was only now that he realised that the part he had really craved whenever he had acted out was Luke putting him to sleep to salvage whatever was left of the thing he was wrecking – And, most importantly, to save Ben from himself.

He didn't know when the goal of his tantrums had shifted from wanting to hurt something as badly as he was hurting himself to just wanting someone to take the pain away.

 _Strong. Controlled. Worthy_.

Ben was neither of those things. He was back at the exact point he started out from – A child, crying and screaming, demolishing entire rooms in his fury and scaring everyone around him. Their fear had only amplified his rage. At least, right now, there was no one around to be afraid of him. Taking a shuddering breath in, he just let himself fall unto his back, one foot propped against the tree while stretching the other one as far from himself as possible. The sun was blinding him, so he closed his eyes, seeing the light penetrate the skin of his lids.

Without meaning to, he slipped into meditation, seeking refuge in his little hiding spot where he stored his jars of happiness.

For the first time in his life, he opened one.

_We can't. Your vows-_

_I don't care about some stupid vows. I want you. Don't push me away._

_My parents promised me to-_

_Yes. Your parents. But not you. You can't break a promise that you haven't made yourself._

When he opened his eyes again, his body felt warm and relaxed but his mind felt... tired. He was tired. Ben sat up, the fabric on his back moist from the morning dew he had been lying in, and only noticed the book, that someone had placed on his chest when it tumbled into his lap. For a second, he thought that Armitage had returned his novel but when he picked it up, he quickly realised that he didn't recognise the cover. It was also a lot thicker.

_Tales of a Jedi Knight_

It was a novel. It was a novel about a noble Jedi Knight named Bac Barnes of all things. And it was absolutely terrible.

Ben spent the entire day reading it.

When Armitage returned to their shared chamber, he was visibly surprised to find Ben still awake, sitting in bed and reading a book. _The book_. Ben wasn't the fastest reader, so he only managed to get through 80-something pages but that was already a lot for him. Reading wasn't really something he did. All of the books he owned were gifts from Rey and those were the only ones he had ever bothered to spend his time on. Well, those and _this_.

“It's terrible,” he told Armitage when the man still hadn't moved from his spot by the door, silent and closed off as per usual. At his words, he seemed to relax a bit though and finally made his way to his side of the bed, still fully clothed.

“It is,” he agreed, propping his foot on the wooden bed frame and opening his boot, pulling the hidden zip from right under his knee over his calf to his ankle. It was the hottest thing Ben had ever seen. “Phasma gave it to me as an engagement present back then. As a joke.”

His boot met the floor with a thump and Ben had to bite his lip when he repeated the same procedure on the other leg. It was so distracting that it took him a moment to piece his words together. He scowled.

“She was making fun of me?”

Armitage looked up, confused, and then shook his head.

“No,” he said as he dumped his boot next to the other one, uncharacteristically careless. “She has great respect for the Jedi. She was just teasing me.”

A part of him still wanted to feel insulted but he quickly realised that he was far too tired for any emotion at all, let alone one as exhausting as anger. So he just took his reassurance at face value for once and let go of trying to read between the lines.

When Armitage opened the belt of his jacket, he dropped his gaze back to the book.

“You must be pretty disappointed if you expected to marry a _Bac Barnes_ ,” he commented, dryly, turning a page. “For what it's worth, I would have gladly called your father ' _foul fiend_ ' before exorcising the Dark out of him with a fictional Jedi artefact that grants me to use the full power of the Light.”

“My disenchantment is, indeed, beyond measure.”

“Nothing to be done about that now. But if you want me to grow a _splendid_ beard, just say the word.”

There was a beat of silence and Ben looked up, worried that he said something wrong. They had been joking, had they not? How did he manage to krong up a conversation this short? Armitage was standing there, his jacket and pants already off and left in only his short-sleeved undershirt and undershorts. Once again, he couldn't help but notice how much smaller he looked out of uniform. It was disarming.

And arousing.

“No,” he finally said, his voice serious but also weirdly soft. “I prefer you like this.”

This conversation had nothing to do with Ben's choice of grooming and they both knew it. Nervousness and something like excitement rippled through him as he closed the book, slowly, as if he could break the moment if he moved too fast. Armitage, too, seemed to move at a glacial pace when he joined him on the bed, sitting next to him. They were far from touching but it was the first time that they were both on the bed without turning their backs to each other.

Ben had followed his every move with his eyes and when their gazes met, he could have sworn that Armitage looked _shy_.

“I liked the novel,” he continued, drawing his knees in and playing with the rim of his socks as if he wasn't sure whether he wanted to take them off or not. Ben opened his mouth to voice his disbelief because he couldn't imagine someone as serious as his husband liking such a silly book - But Armitage quickly clarified: “About the podracing kid.”

“Oh,” he said, stupefied and almost vibrating with nerves. “That's good to hear.” Cringing at his own words, he added: “It's definitely an improvement to _Tales of a Jedi Knight_.”

“It is,” Armitage agreed, finally deciding to peel the socks off his slender feet. “You probably want it back.”

Either Ben was hearing things or he sounded like he really, really didn't want to return it. His husband being so close in such a state of undress was definitely not helping him concentrate, so he wasn't sure.

“You can keep it,” Ben mumbled before he even thought about what the kriff he was saying. First of all, he really liked the book and didn't want to give it away at all. Secondly, it didn't feel right to give something away that Rey had bought him as a present. Thirdly, it felt even _less_ right that the presentee was _him_.

None of that mattered, the second Armitage smiled at him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, probably more out of politeness than anything else because his voice sounded not only surprised but noticeably pleased. “It seemed valuable to you.”

Because it was.

“I'm sure.”

He hadn't known that there were little creases on Armitage's cheeks when he smiled. At this point, he could tell Ben to cut off his own arm and give it to him, gift-wrapped with a ribbon on top, and he would probably do it.

“You can keep mine, too.”

“That is the worst attempt at compensation I have ever witnessed.”

“Well, it's not my fault that you suck at striking a deal, is it?”

Snorting, Ben put _Tales of a Jedi Knight_ away and pulled the blanket over himself as he slid into a lying position. A few moments later, Armitage did the same. He turned the lights off with the force.

They both stayed on their backs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be longer, pinky-promise!


	10. My children will become me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben finds out who Kylo Ren is - but also learns a lot about love and what it means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter is nothing like I thought it would be lmao I initially planned something super mundane with a bit of Poe and some nice bickering but my brain went rogue after the first sentence.  
> I hope y'all won't hate me after this, it's... not pretty.  
> I'm so sorry!  
> (And I've given up on only using parts of the lyrics from the song this was inspired by, cause this has too many fucking chapters now and the song doesn't have enough words lol)

**_It is time to open your eyes, apprentice_.**

Gasping, Ben jerked awake, staring straight up to where the ceiling of his marital chambers should have been – Instead, he found himself lying underneath the darkest of night skies, stars glowing red. Massive planets he vaguely recognised where floating somewhere above, menacing, too close, as if they were seconds away from crushing him. Wildly, he turned to his right, reaching for Armitage but found only an empty space, his nails scratching at ice and snow. He was alone, paralysed and- And choking. The air around him felt thick and suffocating as he tried to breathe in and he felt his lungs burn as if they were bursting into flames, the fire within him confined by his charred ribs. His hands flew to his neck as he tried to move, roll over, get to his feet – Anything, at all. But the pain was too much, it was filling every space of his body and mind and he wanted to scream but found that he couldn't.

_**Do you want the pain to stop?** _

_Yes – Yes, make it stop-_

**_Then let it out. Stop fighting it. Use it, instead._ **

_Use what?_

**_Your anger. Don't be afraid of it._ **

_No. No, if I let it out- Everything will burn._

**_Then so be it. You know that you want it._ **

_My family-_

**_They fear you. They always have. Because they know what you are._ **

_What am I?_

**_The Destroyer of Worlds._ **

Red lights ripped through the darkness of the sky, crashing into the planets above and Ben felt the power of the impact like a rattle in his bones, felt the heat against his face as he watched them burn and crumble, ash and broken pieces floating into nothingness. Even when they were gone, the sky remained red. Pleasure erupted in his chest, the fire within himself still burning but not hurting – His limbs were shaking as he finally found the strength to move, to get back on his feet. For a second, he felt like toppling right back into the snow but he felt hands grabbing his arms from behind, keeping him upright. He didn't need to see them to know whose they were – Their energies were surrounding him, supporting him. Brothers in arms.

_**The universe will bow before you. You can feel it.** _

_I am no ruler. And I don't want to be feared._

_**No? Do you not feed on it? Become more powerful through it?** _

Faces appeared before him. Faces of Padawans he had hurt when sparring. Faces of outlaws and pirates and terrorists that he had defeated during missions. Feeling their fear had always made his attacks more relentless, more ruthless, more _vicious_. And Ben couldn't deny that he enjoyed taking them down. And that he never felt remorse when he slew them instead of taking them prisoner. It wasn't the Jedi way. He knew that.

_They were enemies to the New Republic. It was done for the sake of peace._

_**There is no peace in you. There is only anger.** _

_That's not true-_

_**It is.** _

_**You can feel it.** _

_**It's everywhere you go and in everything you do. Don't be scared of it. Once you kill that fear in your heart, you will finally unleash all that power that they are trying to restrain. They want you to be weak.** _

_Stop- Stop talking-_

_**You could rule the entire Galaxy.** _

_No- I am no ruler._

_**Not yet. But you can be. You can be everything you want.** _ **T a k e** **_everything you want._ **

He believed those words for a second – Thought of the throne, of power and of freedom. When he turned, his brothers were kneeling before him, faces obscured, hidden underneath dark masks and hoods. Behind them, an entire sea of people falling to their knees. Bowing before him.

It only filled the emptiness inside his heart for a second... then he felt hollow once again. A part of him wanted to be king, yes. Wanted to prove that he was strong enough. Worthy enough. But it wasn't what he really wanted, deep down, in the shallow of his heart.

_Not everything._

_**Everything.** _

Ben turned his head. The eyes that met his gaze were as foreign as they were familiar. Instead of the cold blue that he was used to, they were red and white, reflecting the flames that remained alight in the sky above them. Though even the fire raining down on them appeared dull in comparison to the intense colour of the man's hair that was partially hidden underneath a military cap with an emblem stitched on it that he didn't recognise. The black uniform seemed familiar but off, like a perverted distortion of reality. The boots seemed slimmer, slightly more heeled, his trousers jodhpurs instead of the snug pants he seemed to usually favour. The belt was thicker with a silver clasp and his uniform jacket was made of some shiny material that made him look even more robotic than usual. Only the greatcoat seemed almost identical to what he was used to if it weren't for the position of the stripes. The Arkanian military wore the rank-indicating stripes by the crease of the elbow, not the hem of the sleeves.

Slowly, Armitage's ruby lips curled into a smile that was cruel and dangerous – and yet still devastatingly beautiful. Ben couldn't help craving his attention, already addicted to all that he saw in his eyes: Hunger. Passion. _Devotion_.

Nibelkloschs were growing at their feet, silver and delicate, a stark contrast to the opulent Alderaanian flame-roses littered in between. The snow was gone.

It took Ben a moment to realise that he was holding his husband's smaller hand; Armitage's slender, elegant fingers perfectly slotted into the gaps of his own, thick and calloused, ones. There was something hard nudging against two of his fingers, though, and he raised their hands to see what it is.

It's the ring.

 _The ring_.

Broad and silver, textured, with a stone embedded in the middle. The stone wasn't blue, though. It was ruby red- Glowing. Unstable.

He ignited his lightsaber without wanting to and was shocked to see the same change of colour.

He knew this lightsaber.

_**It is time, my apprentice.** _

One of his brothers was standing in front of him, offering him a mask, not unlike Darth Vader's.

_**Master of Ren.** _

Armitage leaned into him, his warm breath ghosting his ears:

_**K̵̛͇̻͎͗̅ỳ̵̡̛̠̲͉̖͈̝͚̒͗̄͆̉͆́͒̍̌̽̄͛͗̉͗͑̕͘̕̚l̵̡̨̛̛͕̳̫͙͕̞̱͙̫̯̃̓͋̅̑̍̈́̑̈͜ͅō̸̡̞̜̣̘͔̪̝͈̤̹̰̣̈́͘** _

Hands were touching him, pulling at him-

_Ren_

His burning body suddenly felt cold-

  
_**Ren** _

Fingers carded through his hair-

“ _ **Ben**_!”

Jerking awake, Ben opened his eyes, panting almost violently. His body was covered in cold sweat and his muscles were still twitching but he couldn't move- Because someone was holding him down, the weight of another body keeping him lying flat on his back. A hand was buried in his damp hair while another was cradling his cheek. There was a face floating somewhere above him but Ben's eyes were wet with tears, making it impossible to recognise anything other than that it was a man.

“Don't touch me-!” he cried, trashing, feeling strong thighs bracketing his hips but whoever was straddling him stood no chance against him while lost in his state of panic. His arm met someone's chest and with a groan of pain, his assailant was thrown off of him. Dizzy and confused, Ben sat up, but the world was still spinning around him and a second later, his back met the cold hard ground.

“Ben, you need to calm down-” a familiar voice yelled. “You're hurting yourself- _Ben_!”

Hands. Hands were touching him– grabbing him-

“ **I said, don't touch me**!”

Choking.

The sound of choking.

Suddenly, Ben's vision sharpened.

The first thing he saw was his own hand – stretched out, fingers slightly curled as if squeezing something. As if squeezing _a neck_.

Only then, did he see Armitage, kneeling on the floor, grabbing at his neck in a desperate and clearly hopeless attempt to pull away hands that weren't there. Blue eyes were staring at his own but they weren't cold- They were _scared_. Mind barrier broken, his aura was pulsing with deadly terror and anguish so potent that Ben felt it like a punch in the gut. There were no thoughts at the forefront of Armitage's mind – Instead, there was Ben's face. Contorted and pale with black, wild eyes. He looked like a monster.

Finally, he let him go.

Nothing had ever felt so painful than the sound of Armitage wheezing, gasping for air because _Ben had force-choked him_. Horrified, he stared at his husband – Half-naked, copper hair messy from sleep and tears rolling down his pale cheeks. He was coughing, rubbing his neck and blindly grabbing for something to hold on to. Ben wanted to help him, take him in his arms and put him back into bed – But he knew that he couldn't. Not after this.

A dark voice in his mind suggested wiping his memory. Surely, everyone involved would benefit from it – Especially Armitage. No one deserved to live with the knowledge that their husband was a monster capable of suffocating him even without touch.

_**Do it** _

_**Do it for him** _

_**D̷̢̢͈̥̬̖̹̤̟͔̮͖̰͓͉̠̳͖̯̠̯͍̭͋͂ o̶̡͚̤̞͈͇̠͈̮̝̰̼̤̦̖̰̙̐̄̀̑͂́̄͗͗̈̓͐̀͗̀̓̐̏̈́̏͠ ̷̧͕͕̘͚̮̯͙͈̳̘̝̩̙͉̫̘̦̗̰̟̝͉̃͌̄̈́͋̈́̽̐͆̾̌̊̑̔̈́͘̕͘ͅ į̸͇̤͕̅̂̃̾̋͌͒̔͗͘̚̚̚͝ ṯ̸̢̝̤͈̤͕͓̮̩͙͇̱̟̼͓͗̈́̾͗̋͗̉͐̌̓͗͐͗̒̃̈̕̕͝͝͝ ,̴̧͓̘͙͈͚̹̅̈́̓̂͊̆̔̈̆̿͋͊̓̊͌̔͝͝ ̸̨̢̰̹͙͖̮͎͖̘̬̼͓͕̀͗̔̍̎̇̉͒̿͑̾̋͛̊̾̚͜͝ͅ K̷̠͇̲̺̦͖̖̟̟̠̪̟̤̃̌ y̵̡̛͈̟͕͚̘̰͓̲͓̮̗̟̻̤̰͙͇͔̫͕̺̿̄̃̆̈͆́͊͊̓̌̓̏̈́ l̷̢̧̙̻͖̣̰̺̖͙͉̳͈̱̻͍̰̟̥̯̺̖̃̌̆̈́͜͝ ō̵̡̖̝̞̗͈͓̯͇̣̱̭͔̤̤̲̘̭̮̞͝ !̴̡̫̎̀̾̏͘** _

Ben struggled to get back on his feet as his whole body was trembling. Grabbing his boots and the robes that he had carelessly thrown next to the bed the evening before, he dashed out of the room and into the corridor. Sprinting down the stairs, he only slowed down once his socked feet met grass that was slightly wet from morning dew. The sky was still dark and the air felt cold on his skin as he finally dressed. His mind was in complete disarray, his head now the most dangerous of places. The voices were still whispering, though he couldn't make out the words and he started hitting himself in a helpless attempt to silence them.

“Shut up!” he yelled but they didn't and the garden remained empty. Pulling at his hair, hot tears started to well up in his eyes and he shook his head as he saw Armitage's horrified face staring at him from his inner eye. Their fragile but gentle connection from the evening before was broken beyond repair now. He didn't know how he was ever going to look him the eye again.

He needed to leave.

He needed Luke.

In the middle of the way to the hangar, he stopped. There was a presence behind him, however, it wasn't one that he recognised. When he turned around, though, he saw nothing. Still, there was a pull in his chest and something that told him that it would be a terrible mistake to leave Alderaan. That something sinister was waiting out there, hoping to catch him alone and vulnerable as he was right now.

Taking a shuddering breath in, he followed the pull, away from the hangar. The palace's garden was vast and Ben quickly realised that wherever he was being led was a place he had never been to before. Maybe that was a trap, too. But it didn't feel like it. It didn't feel like the voices.

It felt like Luke.

But that was impossible – He was at the temple and it took hours to get to Alderaan from there. Even if he had somehow felt Ben's distress from world's away, he would never manage to come to his aid this quick. Curious and scared, he soldiered on, after all, there was nothing else to do for him at this point if he didn't want to go insane. And the closer he got to the source of the pull, the quieter the voices became.

Slowly, the garden seemed to bleed into a wild thicket and Ben hated himself for not bringing his lightsaber with him to hack away at the many branches that were pulling at his robes. Normally, he would have used the force but he didn't dare to do it in this state.

The pull was gone.

And there was a two-leaf trap door, covered in green.

Objectively, it seemed like a terrible idea to open it. But the voices were silent and something that felt like Luke had led him to this place. Deciding to take the risk, he began to wipe most of the ivy and leafs from the wooden doors, revealing two ring handles. They were covered in dirt but when he rubbed at one, he saw that they used to be golden. Grabbing them with both hands, he pulled and cursed when he found them stuck. Planting his feet, he tried harder, feeling his arms burn from the strain, and almost toppled backwards when the door leafs finally relented and sprung open. There was a ladder leading down when he leaned in to take a look but it was impossible to tell what was at the bottom.

A soft puff of wind brushed him. It felt like the doorway was breathing in.

Carefully, he climbed in and started to descend the ladder, trying not to be afraid when he found himself engulfed in darkness. He was reluctant to close his eyes and let himself be led by the force but since there was no ominous whispering, he hoped that he would be save. Feeling that the ground was close, he jumped the last bit, the thud of his boots meeting stone echoing in the room.

Braver now than he had been just moments ago, he conjured a ball of light into the palm of his hand, illuminating his surroundings.

It was a crypt.

Making the light a little bit brighter, he saw a casket made out of what appeared to be white marble at the very end of the room. And behind it, as if guarding over it, stood the statue of a woman. The palms of her hands were turned towards him, arms slightly lifted, as if she saw his distress and wanted to offer comfort with an embrace. She was a lot smaller than Ben but elevated so that their eyes were at the same level when he approached her. If he had to guess he would say that it was a life-sized effigy, her height and figure similar to his mother's when he was a child. When he got a good look at her face, he immediately recognised her delicate features.

Padmé Amidala.

“That was a close call.”

Startled, he whirled around, heart beating hard and fast against his chest. His bewildered gaze was met with an amused smirk that made the corners of a young man's mouth crease. Ben immediately recognised his own smirk there. The dimple on Luke's chin. The rounded tip of his mother's nose.

“Grandfather?” he asked, unbelieving, as he stared at what appeared to be a force ghost; Transparent, blue, glowing. A memory resurfaced. “The face I saw when I crashed the podracer- That was you.”

Anakin Skywalker smiled.

“I have to say, you and I are quite alike,” he announced as if it wasn't just the two of them in the room, cocking his head a bit to the left and giving him a quick once-over. “Except I never crashed a podracer in my life.”

Oh, _Jabs_. Just what he needed.

“And I haven't lost a hand yet,” Ben deadpanned, crossing his arms across his chest. “So go figure.”

The ghost laughed and raised his robotic hand as if he had to check whether or not it was still prosthetic. It was.

“Touché,“ he relented and even though he was still smiling, there was something incredibly sad taking over his face. “But the accident is not why we're here.”

No. It wasn't.

Immediately, he remembered the way Armitage had looked at him while at the mercy of Ben's powers – Powers that were completely out of control, just like his parents had feared they would be. A slave to his emotions and the dark pulsing through his veins, hurting the man that he had sworn to love, even if it hadn't been him who wrote those vows. He would have never attacked him like this if he had been lucid – No matter how angry he got at the man's coldness, no matter how bitter or rejected he felt. Armitage had smiled at him just hours ago. And now, he was probably contemplating divorce, war or not. He couldn't blame him. Maybe, he was already packing.

His heart convulsed at the thought of Armitage annulling their shell of a marriage, of him leaving Alderaan to return to the _Sternweiler_ , of never seeing him again.

Ben sank to his knees when the realisation sunk in.

He loved him, despite everything.

What a fool he was.

“Did anyone ever tell you why she died?” Anakin asked, his gaze directed at the statue of his wife. Ben could almost taste his grief.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Mother never talks about you. Nor her.” He hesitated. “All Luke told me was that she died at childbirth.”

A haunted look passed the blue, young face before he pressed his lips together for a moment, brows forming a tense line.

“Then he was kind to spare you the details,” he said, softly, and with something like pride. “That's my son right there. Kind.”

“He is.”

“He got that from his mother. She was the kindest soul I ever met. Compassionate. Optimistic.” The corners of his mouth twitched downwards and he averted his gaze in a shameful gesture. “Right up until the moment I broke her.”

A cold chill ran over his spine.

“You mean Darth Vader,” he corrected and immediately felt foolish for doing so. As if he knew any better than the man standing in front of him.

Anakin looked conflicted, shaking his head.

“I don't know,” he confessed before meeting Ben's eyes again. “I don't know where exactly I ended and Darth Vader began. And in the end, it doesn't matter under which name it was done. My wife died because I broke her. Her heart. Her dreams. The Republic. All that she believed in. I choked it out of her.”  
He couldn't help but flinch at the last sentence. Couldn't help but see Armitage's face. The fear. The betrayal. It morphed inside his head, blue eyes turning brown. Like a memory long lost, he could hear the stifled whisper of a woman echoing inside his head.

_Anakin-_

“All I wanted was to save her. But in the end, it was me that killed her.”

“Save her?” he asked, not quite following. “Save her from what?”

“Death,” Anakin said as if that would explain everything. It didn't. “What is it that you saw in your dream?”

The change of topic was abrupt and Ben curled his hands into fists, unwilling to relive the memory but forcing himself to do so. His grandfather was here to help him. He knew how rare it was to be visited by a force ghost. It was a gift that he wouldn't dare waste.

“I was lying on the ground, surrounded by snow, but inside I was burning. A voice told me that the pain would stop if I used the anger within in me, instead of fearing it. It called me _Destroyer of Worlds_. Five Planets just... vanished. I think it was me. I don't know,” he recounted, feeling the thrill and the pleasure at seeing them burning like he was. “It told me that I could rule. And for a moment, I liked it. I wanted to be king. And I wanted to see entire worlds go up in flames.”

Anakin was listening with an expression that he knew all too well from Luke. There was no judgement. Only understanding. Only compassion.

“But?” he prompted and Ben bit the inside of his cheek, trying to put what he had seen and felt into words.

“There was something that I wanted more.”

A smile played on those blue lips.

“Love,” he said as if he had seen right into his soul and picked the deepest of his desires right out of his head. “You saw that man from Arkanis.”

“Armitage,” he confirmed, both ashamed and relieved that he didn't have to explain that particular part. Ben hardly understood it himself. “He was with me. And he was as cruel and vicious as I was.” In retrospect, he could only shudder at the memory of what his eyes had looked like in that dream. He much preferred them like they usually were: Cold. “I think he loved me.”

“You didn't know, did you?” Anakin asked, but it didn't really sound like a question. “That you wanted that.”

Ben shook his head.

“No. I didn't. Not until I saw what it could feel like.”

“I saw her dying,” the ghost suddenly said and it took him a moment to realise that they had once again changed topics. Or rather, returned to a part of their conversation that he had thought to have ended already. “That's how he got me. I hadn't known that that was my greatest fear until he showed me and made me believe that it was a vision from the force. Then he promised to show me a way to change what I thought to be her fate.”

Finally, he understood what he was getting at – Why he was here.

“He?”

“The man who created Darth Vader,” he said, voice grim. He didn't sound like the man that had teased Ben about his lack of podracing skills. “The man I killed to save my son.”

“Chancellor Palpatine.”

“Yes.”

There was that haunted look again as Anakin's eyes stared at nothing at all, trapped inside a memory that Ben was glad to be spared of. He was sure that he wouldn't have the strength to bear even a fraction of this man's suffering.

“Don't believe what those visions show you,” he told him when he snapped out of whatever nightmare he had been in, looking Ben straight in the eye. “The second you believe in it, you will be lost. And I can promise you that you will not get what you desire. If it's love that you want, then it will be love that will be taken from you.”

Closing his eyes in defeat, he let his head sink before he whispered: “I think that already happened.”

“No,” Anakin disagreed, no hesitation whatsoever. Ben dared to look up at him with something like hope. “That is the one thing that can never be taken from you. If you really love this man, hold onto it. Even if the feeling isn't mutual. That's not what love is about.”

The confusion on his face must have been evident because the ghost was looking at him the same way Luke looked at him whenever he was about to explain something that he considered painfully obvious.

“I love my daughter.”

Ben blinked, uncomprehending. Anakin looked tormented.

“I love my daughter,” he repeated and the saddest of smiles graced his lips. “She doesn't love me. I don't think she ever will. That doesn't change the way I feel about her.”

Oh.

“Unconditional love,” Ben concluded.

“Exactly.”

It was painful to imagine an entire lifetime spent with someone who wouldn't love him back. But, it would be worse if he spent an entire lifetime with someone that he resented for something he had no control over. Nothing in the world could _make_ Armitage love him. It wasn't his fault that he didn't feel that way. And he was in his right to never trust or forgive him for what he did before running like a coward.

Only Armitage could give him what he wanted. Not the voices. Not a Master. Not the Dark Side.

Only Armitage.

“There were others in my vision,” Ben told him when the thought crossed his mind. “They felt like brothers. I think the voice called them _Ren_.”

“Rogue force-wielders,” Anakin explained, almost dismissively. “They are weak in their connection to the force. That's why he wants you.”

“He?”

“The man that wants to kill Ben Solo.”

“And create Kylo Ren.”

Anakin smiled.

“Luke told me once that I should never split my soul into Ben Solo and another,” Ben suddenly remembered. “That I would forget who I was if I discarded my name. Was he talking about Kylo Ren?”

“My son is very attuned to the force,” the ghost told him and, once again, he could hear the pride he felt towards him. “So, it's possible. You must ask him yourself.”

Ben nodded.

“That is what happened to you, isn't it? When you became Darth Vader, you lost Anakin Skywalker.”

“Yes.” His voice was grim again. “I was lost until my son found me. It was his unconditional love towards me that defeated Darth Vader.”

“Or maybe it was yours towards him.”

“Could have been a bit of both.”

They smiled at each other and for a moment, Ben forgot that he was talking to a man who was long dead. He could imagine how he had looked like alive – Blond, blue-eyed and handsome. Even like this, the man felt like raw power, contained in a body that should have been too fragile to hold it. And maybe it had been.

Maybe Ben's was too fragile, too.

“I don't know how to control it,” he whispered and he couldn't hide the fear vibrating in his voice. “I thought I did. But now, it's all broken.”

“I would tell you if I could. But I never quite figured that out myself.”

No. He didn't. Of course, he didn't.

“I'm sorry,” Anakin said and he looked ashamed, again. “I wish you weren't so much like me. But you can still succeed where I failed. You're not alone. Don't forget that. Because I did and then I killed those that loved me. My wife. The man you were named after.” He shook his head. “There is always Luke. And your mother.” Ben snorted and Anakin chuckled a bit. “My daughter comes after me, too, which makes it hard for her to show affection. But she _does_ love you.”

“I know,” he sighed. Another thing that he hadn't realised he'd known.

“We don't have much time left,” Anakin suddenly announced, standing a little straighter. “Today, I could help you but my powers are limited in this form. I don't know if I can help you again. Or even see you again.”

“I understand,” he told him, finally standing up. “Thank you. For today. And for saving Luke.”

“Take care of yourself, Ben,” Anakin told him with a smile that looked deceptively carefree if one didn't see the torment in his eyes. “May the force be with you.”

The room plunged back into darkness.

Ben stayed a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be more Armitage next chapter, I swear! Though it probably won't be all that fluffy after this.  
> BTW I can't believe we're already at double-digits!


	11. What if I told you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben apologises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I told y'all that the next update would be up on Friday but I'm a terrible person with no priorities in life whatsoever, so I finished this instead of doing what I should have been doing.  
> #Queenofprocrastination  
> Anyway, I think a lot of people will be very happy about this chapter haha  
> Enjoy!

“Man, you look like shit,” was the first thing Ben heard when he returned home sometime after lunch. “Where the hell were you?”

“Training,” he mumbled, moving around the last man he wanted to talk to right now, fully intending to wash and change before seeking Armitage out to- He didn't know what. Apologise, obviously. But he had no idea how.

Poe Dameron, however, was apparently hell-bent on delaying that plan as he fell into step beside him and asked: “Were you training with a _Vorn Tiger_?”

“No.”

“Well, sure looks like it. Your dress is absolutely ruined.”

Force give him strength.

“And you've been gone for quite a while, too,” Poe continued because he was apparently adamant on dying a painful death by his hand this very second. “I wouldn't have thought that you'd have the energy left for any sort of training after last night.”

Ben froze.

It took Poe a minute to realise that the other man had stopped moving, standing in the middle of the corridor, hands curled into fists. He knew that it wouldn't do him any good to panic right now. Obviously, he had entertained the thought of Armitage having already told the others about what he did to him, but a part of him had hoped that he hadn't. That he would at least give him a chance to explain himself before announcing that Ben was a monster that he could not live with.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, he fixed Poe with his most intimidating stare as he lied: “I have no idea what you're talking about.”  
He didn't know what he had expected the cocky pilot to do. Tell Ben that Armitage was waiting in his X-wing fighter with all of his belongings, maybe. Rub his nose in the fact that he had seized the opportunity to steal his husband. A punch in the face maybe, for hurting the man he was clearly interested in despite the unfortunate marital status. Ben would punch himself, too.

Instead, Poe grinned at him with amusement.

“Come on, man,” he laughed, slapping Ben's arm as if they were the oldest of friends. “No need to be shy. We're both men, aren't we?”

_What?_

“What?” he asked out loud, confused and irritated because the man was only grinning wider, looking at him as if he was the funniest person he had ever met.

“I mean, I have to admit that I didn't think you had it in you,” Poe continued and there was displeasure coming off in waves from the man. Ben tensed, already on alert again. “You work pretty hard on that Jedi image of yours, after all. Walking around dressed like a monk all day. Meditating at the crack of dawn and shit. And you never touch your husband in public. At least, I haven't seen it.”

Ben wasn't following. At all. He could still be talking about the fact that he had almost killed Armitage last night but his tone was all off. And his aura was only brimming with something that felt more like jealousy than the need to avenge anyone. But if he wasn't talking about _that_ -

“A Jedi in the streets but a freak in the sheets, eh?”

_**What.** _

He didn't know when his jaw decided that it needed some space from the rest of his face, but then his shock subsided enough to make him realise that he was staring at Poe with his mouth agape. Heat crawled into his face and he was blinking, shutting his mouth with a resolute _click_.

“I get it, though. I mean, you've been chaste throughout the horniest of teenage years. And then you get to marry a man who looks _like that_. And you're clearly strong, so.”

He didn't want to hear another word. Not one more syllable. But his body wasn't cooperating as he stayed put, shocked into silence and staring at the pilot like an embarrassed virgin. Or Ex-virgin.

Kriffing hell.

“I wouldn't have pegged Armitage for the kinky type either, to be honest,” Poe continued as if it was totally normal to confess thinking of the man in a sexual way to his _husband_. “But now that I think about it, it kinda makes sense. Still waters running deep and the like.” A chuckle. “But still. Choking, man? That's like- Brutal. Was it his kink or yours?”

If Ben could make himself disappear with the force, he would. Since he couldn't, he was stuck with staring at Poe, trying not to attack him for talking about Armitage like that. A second later, he realised that he had no reason to refrain himself _completely_. This bastard was talking about his husband as if he had any right to fantasize about him. _To his face_.

Grabbing the man by the lapels of his leather jacket, he slammed him into the wall next to them, relishing in the pained gasp coming from his lips. He could have done it a lot harder, but Ben _was_ strong and his mother wouldn't appreciate him 'accidentally' breaking one of her pilot's bones.

With an ugly sneer, eyes burning with anger, he hissed: “Talk about my husband like that _one more time_ and I will _**kill**_ you.”

Brown eyes were staring at him with something like shock. Obviously, Poe hadn't been lying when he had told him that he hadn't thought that Ben _had it in him_. What did he think he was? Some peaceful Jedi monk, sitting around cross-legged all day and wagging a lightsaber for fun? Was it his robes or his youth that had made him think he was someone he could afford to walk all over? _To mock_?

“I forfeit my vows to be with him,” he whispered with a low growl, closing in on him even further, letting him feel how much taller, broader and stronger he was. “So the rules of the Jedi don't apply to me anymore. I can wring your neck whenever I want to. I can break every single one of your bones without even _touching_ you.” Just to prove his point, he let his jacket go and made a step backwards, keeping Poe pressed against the wall with nothing but the force. It was extremely satisfying to see him kicking against air, trying to free himself from Ben's force-hold. “The only reason why I showed any patience towards you was that you saved me. But if you even _think_ about my husband like that again, I _will_ murder you. _Do you understand?_ ”

“Yes! Yes, I understand!”

The second, he withdrew his hold, Poe fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Ben snorted.

And left him there.

Fortunately, Armitage hadn't been in their chambers when he peeled himself out of his tattered robes and stepped underneath the shower. To his utter relief, all of his husband's things seemed to still be there – His toiletries, his dirty laundry and some scary figurine of what looked like a Kraken that had randomly appeared on their shelf underneath their bathroom mirror one day.

When he opened the wardrobe to dress, his clothes were still there, too. Gently, he let his fingertips graze over the many different fabrics of Armitage's tunics and jackets, smiling a bit when he saw the one he had worn at their wedding.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for the conversation to come.

Finding his husband was easy enough because, by now, Ben already knew that he pretty much lived inside the library when he wasn't with his parents or Dameron.

Armitage was sitting by the window, knees drawn in, a book resting on top of them – But he wasn't reading. Instead, he was gazing into space, the back of his head resting against the window frame. Ben's heart convulsed painfully when he saw the dark bruises on that pale beautiful neck, only half-way covered by his collar. It looked horrifying.

Closing the door behind himself, he flinched a bit at the loud _click_. His husband slowly turned his head towards him.

The mind barrier was back up. His face was expressionless.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked when Ben had only been standing there like an idiot for what felt like an entire hour. It scared him how unaffected that voice sounded. Hard. Cold. As if he didn't care, at all.

“I don't know what to say,” he confessed quietly, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously, trying to remember the words he had been preparing on his way to the library. They were all gone.

“An explanation would be appropriate.”

Not an apology. An explanation.

Ben wasn't sure if that meant that he wasn't going to be forgiven, no matter what he said. He would deserve that.

“I didn't mean to-,” he started but his voice broke before he could utter the word resting on the tip of his tongue. “I just... I had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare.”

“Yes.”

“That's it?”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he drew his brows together, not sure how he was supposed to interpret the nonchalance of his husband's words. There was no way to read him at all. Nothing.

He nodded.

Armitage stood up, closing the book.

“I'll move out then,” he announced and Ben felt like he had poured a bucket of ice-cold water over his head. “I have no intention of spending my nights next to a man who bangs his head against the bed-frame like a possessed person and then decides to strangle me when I wake him – All because of a _nightmare_.” No, no, no – This was going all wrong. “It's not like either of us actually wants to sleep with the other, anyway.”

Ben wasn't sure if he was talking about sleeping or about sex but he knew that he wanted both of those things. Armitage didn't. Even though, he had known that it still hurt to hear him say it.

He could live without the sex if he needed to but he didn't want Armitage to sleep anywhere else except next to him. Those little moments in the morning when he could just look at his husband were precious to him. And the thought of never getting to see him like that again was devastating. No, he had to fix this. There was no other option for him than to _fix this_.

Armitage passed by him, clearly meaning to get to the door and leave him here.

“Do you remember the mountain scene in _Tales of a Jedi Knight_? The one in chapter 3?” he asked, too loud, words rushed, as he turned to his husband who – fortunately – stopped dead in his tracks. There was a beat of silence before he also turned to Ben, disbelief and annoyance written all over his face.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Deadly,” he promised and he didn't know if it was something in his eyes or the grimness of his voice, but his husband seemed to sober immediately. Armitage took a deep breath.

“Yes, I remember,” he allowed despite the impatience lacing his every word. “One second he was in a tavern, the next he was transported to some mountain for a little talk between him and that Sith apprentice.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you were transported to some mountain? Because you were clearly in bed.”

“No, I wasn't _transported_ anywhere. That's not how the force works,” Ben quickly answered, mind racing as he scrambled for a way to explain what happened to someone who didn't know anything about the force. “But there was someone who breached my mind last night. They made me see a vision.”

Armitage blinked, then drew his brows together, looking completely unconvinced of what he was hearing.

“Someone _planted_ a nightmare inside your head?”

“Yes. No. Not exactly,” he stammered, wincing at how badly this 'explanation' of his was going. “It wasn't meant to be a nightmare. They were trying to communicate with me.”

“Who?”

“I don't know,” he admitted, pressing his lips together for a moment, and then took a step closer. Armitage tensed as if he was expecting an attack. Ben tried to pretend that that reaction didn't hurt. “It's someone who wants me.” At seeing his husband's face at that, he quickly added: “For my powers. They want me as a weapon.”

“That sounds all pretty fantastical, don't you think?”

He didn't believe him. It was evident in the clipped tone of his voice, the unconvinced look in his eyes. Ben started to feel stupid, too, but he knew that he was saying the truth. His grandfather had confirmed that whoever got into his head wanted _Kylo Ren_.

“You forget who I am,” Ben told him, standing a little bit straighter, reminding himself of his own blood and legacy. “My grandfather was Anakin Skywalker. He was prophesied to be the most powerful force-wielder in the Galaxy and he _did_ destroy the Sith and bring balance to the force. My uncle is Luke Skywalker and he is legendary in his own right. My own connection to the force is so strong that I had to be confined to the temple as a child because my own parents were afraid of what I can do. I come from the most powerful bloodline of force users in the entire Galaxy. There is nothing _fantastical_ about any of this.”

There was still doubt in those blue eyes. Ben wanted to scream and shake some sense into his husband. How was he supposed to prove that he was saying the truth? He didn't think that any _magic trick_ would convince him that he wasn't just blowing smoke up his own arse. Back in the temple, he had forgotten that the people outside of it didn't understand the force. They knew that the Empire had been brought down by the Resistance. Not many knew that, in its core, it had been a war between the Light and the Dark. Jedi against Sith. Anakin Skywalker against Darth Vader. It wasn't the Resistance that had won the last and most important battle – It was Anakin's love for his son that had done that.

Armitage wouldn't understand. Not with the way he was looking at him right now: As if Ben was some religious fanatic, a madman with a superiority complex.

“Okay, let's pretend that what you're saying is true and you're some superhuman force weapon,” Armitage relented and he had to bite his tongue to not snap at the implication that he was outright _lying_ right now. “Why would some stranger out there need you?”

Ben had been asking that himself.

“Whoever it is, is clearly a user of the Dark Side of the force. He has minions that he calls _Ren_ but they aren't nearly as powerful as I am.” Armitage was rolling his eyes at that and he had to keep his temper in check because he was a second away from destroying some things. “The Republic has an entire temple full of Jedi apprentices and not one but _two_ strong descendants of _Skywalker_. Isn't it obvious why they would need me?”

“You're saying that this ominous nightmare-maker is an enemy of the Republic and he needs you to even the playground?”

“They call me their apprentice. Master of Ren. They promise to teach me the Dark Side of the force. That I can have everything I want. They want me to turn on the Light, the Republic, my family. I think they want me to kill Luke when the time comes. No one else would be able to.”

“If they're clever enough to get into your head like that, they must know that you adore Luke. I hardly know you and I know that. You would never kill him.”

“No,” he agreed, relieved that from all the terrible things Armitage must think him capable of, this wasn't one of them. “I would never. But I don't think that this... _thing_ knows anything about love.”

“What do you mean?”

“They offered me power. A crown. It wasn't enough to tempt me, so they tried to offer me something else.”  
Armitage started to look even more impatient than he already did, fidgeting and scowling. Clearly, he wished that Ben would just get to the point but he didn't know how to get there. How to explain what he saw without telling him that they had offered him _Armitage_. That he _wanted_ him.

“What? What did they offer?”

A deep breath in.

“Someone who loves me.”

Armitage stilled.

And for the first time ever since this conversation started, he didn't look doubtful at all. Just... surprised. Like he was seeing Ben for the very first time and didn't know what to think about him. It made him nervous and he wondered whether or not he realised that- that it was him. Him, that he wanted. Him, they had offered. Him, all along.

“Someone you know?” he asked, carefully, but with no particular emotion behind it. There was no hope in his eyes or something that could have been interpreted as longing or eagerness or even trepidation if he believed that it wasn't him. The question was asked as if he was simply curious. As if nothing depended on Ben's answer.

He couldn't tell him.

He couldn't.

“I don't know,” he lied, hoping that his face didn't betray him. Luke always told him that his eyes were extremely easy to read, always reflecting what he was feeling. But Armitage didn't know him. He had to count on that. “I didn't see their face. But I was holding their hand and I could feel that they loved me.”

Neither of them said anything after that. They just... looked at each other.

A part of him hoped that he would see right through him. That he would take his hand. Tell him that he already had that.

It was a futile dream.

“Clearly, you didn't take them up on the offer,” he said instead and his voice was painfully disinterested. “Or you wouldn't be here.”

Ben would love claiming that he was strong enough to resist an offer like that. That he was above the temptations of the Dark. But it wasn't true. He could only lie so much. So, he shook his head and, full of shame, admitted: “You woke me before I could make a decision.”

His husband's face hardened.

“Is that why you attacked me?” he asked with the coldest of voices, almost hissing. How sad that this was the only time, he let any emotion through. “Because I ruined your opportunity?”

“No!” he denied immediately, hurt by the mere implication. “Force, no! I would never- I didn't mean to. I didn't realise it was you. There was a dangerous stranger inside my head, keeping me paralysed and calling me his _apprentice_ ; there were masked men grabbing me and I was called _Master of Ren_ and a name that wasn't my own- I was scared, alright? I was terrified. When you were keeping me down and then tried to grab me once I was free, I- I wasn't awake yet. Not completely. I didn't even _see_ you until I was already choking you.”

For a moment it looked like Armitage wanted to fight him on that – Maybe accuse him of lying, either directly or evasively – but there must have been something on Ben's face or in his eyes because his mouth closed and a little bit of tension seemed to leave his body. He didn't look _comfortable_ exactly, but he seemed to trust that Ben really didn't mean him any harm. Ben realised that this was his moment – Armitage would have dismissed him at the start of their conversation but now he seemed as receptive as he was ever going to be.

“I'm sorry,” he said and the words felt foreign on his tongue but also _right_. “You have no idea how sorry I am. I never wanted to hurt you. Our marriage isn't exactly loving and I have been far from nice to you so far but I don't _hate_ you. At all. And I don't want to see you hurt or bruised or anything like that.”

Gaping wasn't exactly the word to describe the way his husband was staring at him, but it also wasn't completely off. He seemed totally frozen and speechless, his eyes flickering all over Ben's face as if he was looking for something.

Without meaning to, he was suddenly approaching him – Slowly, carefully, as if Armitage was an animal he was trying not to scare off. As sad as it was that the man immediately tensed, he was also standing very still. Letting Ben close in while he tugged at his own glove, exposing his right hand. He did flinch, though, when he saw him raising the bared hand.

“May I?” he asked in a whisper, his fingertips mere centimetres away from the bruised skin on Armitage's neck. “I won't hurt you. I promise.”

There was trepidation in those blue eyes and he could detect a hint of nerves through the force, breaking through his husband's barrier. Just when he wanted to retreat again, Armitage nodded though. And then lifted his chin, just the slightest bit, giving him access. It felt like an honour when he let him touch the purpled skin without as much as a flinch.

Softly and as slow as humanly possible, he laid his hand over his neck as if going for another choke and he made sure not to put even the slightest bit of pressure on Armitage.

“This will feel a little weird,” he whispered, their eyes locked, feeling him swallow underneath his palm. “And I'm not very skilled at it. But I'll do my best.”

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the warm skin contact, felt through the force, probing at the injured flesh. Once he focused on the bruised area, he started to stir up his own energy, gathering as much as he thought he might need and let it pour from him into Armitage. There was a soft gasp and a shudder from another person and Ben felt the loss of life energy like a missing tooth when he opened his eyes again.

Reluctantly, he let his hand slide from his husband's neck to where his collarbone was underneath the stiff fabric of his jacket.

The bruise wasn't completely gone but there was only a very soft yellow left.

“It doesn't hurt anymore,” Armitage breathed, his eyes still focused on Ben's face. For once, they didn't look cold but wondering. A bit vulnerable. Almost soft. “What did you do?”

One corner of his mouth curled up into something like a smile.

“Nothing,” he said as he took his hand away. He immediately missed the contact. “Just a little magic trick.”

Armitage blinked. And then his red, beautiful lips twitched into a little smile for a second, too.

“Thank you.”

Something in the air around them had shifted. Settled. Calmed. Yet, his skin tingled and his heart was beating faster than usual as he lost himself in the blue of those eyes. His body subconsciously swayed the tiniest bit forward. There was a quiet, high-pitched noise. It came from Armitage.

Ben snapped out of whatever had possessed him for a moment, leaning back again.

They looked at each other for another heartbeat.

“Are you still moving out?” he finally dared to ask, dreading the answer as much as he felt hopeful. His husband seemed to hesitate for a second, obviously unsure himself. Then he shook his head.

“No,” he said and Ben finally relaxed completely. “I... I accept your apology.” He licked his lips. “And I believe you.”

“That I didn't mean to hurt you or-”

“All of it,” Armitage interrupted so fiercely and confident that it left him speechless for a moment. “Every word.”

Even the lie. Because Ben knew exactly who he had seen in that vision. He was standing right here.

“Thank you,” he said, relieved and so happy that he was almost dizzy with it. “Also for lying. About the bruise.”

The ivory of his skin turned red in a matter of seconds and he cleared his throat, finally averting his gaze from Ben. The embarrassment was almost palpable and, even though he, too, felt the mortification of Poe and possibly his parents thinking that they had been having sex so brutal that one of them ended up bruised, he relished in seeing his husband flustered like that.

He would love to bruise him up during sex if Armitage wanted him to.

“Well,” he coughed, tugging at his jacket as if it needed straightening. “Dameron made that conclusion himself. I simply decided not to correct him.”

“Thank you all the same.”

They weren't exactly smiling when their eyes locked once again but it was a close thing.

Only Armitage could give him what he wanted.

Maybe there was hope yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, those idiots are getting somewhere! But we all know that the shitshow-bomb is ticking muhaha


	12. I wanna fight but I can't contend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben wins one friend but loses another (again).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY GUYS! I know I promised a fluffy chapter and I really, really planned one and all! Like I will write that fluffy chapter okay? I will! But, er... this won't be it. Like it started out just fine and then I kinda lost control over what the fuck was happening? Forgive me!

Another knight was coming.

It had been Armitage's idea – or _demand_ – that Ben told his uncle about the mind breaching incident. He liked to think that his husband was worried about him, though, he insisted that he simply didn't want to wake up to him slamming his head against the bed frame again. No matter his reasoning, he was right. Ben couldn't afford to not say anything. Anakin Skywalker saving him as a force ghost was a kriffing miracle and he highly doubted that it was going to happen a second time, let alone every time. After all, it was unlikely that whoever wanted to manipulate him had given up completely. They were probably already thinking of what to try next to pull Ben to the Dark Side.

Luke hadn't looked surprised at all when he told him but the worry on his face was clear as day.

“I can't leave the temple all the time,” he told him not without regret. “My students need me here.”

“I understand,” Ben said, trying not to look as panicky as he felt because he really _did_ understand. Luke _was_ the last Jedi Master alive. And a temple full of Padawans left to their own devices for more than just two or three days screamed of chaos.

“I have an idea, though,” Luke offered, scratching his bearded chin in contemplation. “Do you remember Finn?”

He wasn't sure what kind of face he made, but the answer was probably written all over it. Luke chuckled a bit.

“The one you almost threw out of a balcony when you found out that he'd been talking to Rey while you were on that mission in Kamino.”

“Ah,” he said and he did remember the good-looking guy with the ebony skin whose aura he had sniffed all over Rey's room. “Now I remember.”

“He just finished his Trials. And he's very talented when it comes to the protection of the mind. Just yesterday he seemed pretty lost on where to go now and though I would have liked to keep him to help me around a bit, I think it would be more prudent to have him in the palace with you. He will notice another user's force signature and could intervene if necessary.”

Though Ben still felt a little bitter about how that bastard had tried to slot himself into Rey's life, he had to agree. Alone, he was a vulnerable target. Having another knight around to keep an eye on him would act, at the very least, as protection for Armitage. Never again did he want to hurt him like he had done that terrible night.

So he had agreed.

And now, he was waiting for Finn's shuttle to arrive, unexpectedly excited about the whole thing. Both his parents and Armitage have been throwing him weird looks all day. Seeing him in a good mood was probably unusual for them but he couldn't help it because finally, there would be a bit of home. Another force-user, another Knight and former Padawan, another person to spar and meditate with and talk about scriptures and weapons, the Trials, the legends and rumours of artefacts hiding all over the Galaxy.

Ben needed someone who understood him. Ben needed a friend.

He hoped that Finn wasn't still mad about the balcony thing.

And that he did as he was told. Luke had promised Ben that he would make Finn swear on his life that no word of Rey would leave the man's lips. Not in front of Armitage, or his parents, staff, strangers, cocky pilots – No one. Rey was a secret to be kept for eternity.

Ben also wanted to know how she was.

While he was completely and irrevocably in love with Armitage, there would forever be a part of him that loved Rey. She had been his first and as of yet only lover, the first person outside of family to care about him and she had been the very first person ever to not feel even a drop of fear around him. Despite everything, Ben still missed her deeply.

He was lonely.

While Armitage had forgiven him and they now tried to have civil conversations from time to time, they were far from being friends even, let alone actual husbands. They slept on their backs with enough space to fit another grown man between them, they sat across each other during meals and yet rarely had direct or prolonged eye contact and their talks still mostly consisted of “How was your training?” and “Is that book interesting?” though now they both tried to make an effort to not answer with a simple “Yes” but elaborate a bit. So, Ben tried to tell him what he struggled with, especially because he was training on his own now, and what he thought he managed to get better at or even master and Armitage told him what the books he was reading were about and explained when Ben didn't know what the kriff he was talking about.

It was a start. But it still wasn't much. They were still strangers to one another and he still felt lonely around the man.

No one could blame him for being nervous and extremely happy when the shuttle was finally approaching. Maybe it was a mistake to have such high hopes for friendship or at least amicable companionship, especially given Ben's cold conduct towards all Padawans except for Rey and the balcony-incident, but. But.

When the shuttle landed, he could barely contain the nervous and excited energy.

Finn looked like a proper Jedi. His loose traditional robes were white and beige, his boots brown and well-worn and the lightsaber was worn proudly on his hip. When he stepped out of the shuttle, he saw Ben immediately. His immense happiness must have been extremely obvious because the poor guy looked very perplexed and confused. He really didn't give a kriff – In fact, he would probably hug him if he wasn't sure that Finn would faint if he did that.

“Welcome to Alderaan,” his mother said with a smile when the knight reached them. “We are very happy to have you.”

“I gladly offer my services, Your Highness,” he answered politely, bowing his head a bit and throwing nervous glances at Ben who was still staring at him with child-like anticipation. “Prince Ben.”

At that, he had to frown a bit.

“You never called me that at the temple,” he snorted but his voice was devoid of any anger or irritation. “We're basically brothers. Just call me Ben like you usually do.”

Finn stared at him as if he had never seen him before. It's not like he could blame him but Ben was far too happy to care about anything other than that he wasn't alone anymore. Strange, how a boy he had almost thrown out of a balcony in a jealous rage and hardly remembered when Luke had mentioned him felt more like family than his own parents.

“Okay,” he reluctantly agreed, clearly taken-aback and insecure. “Ben.” He seemed to cringe a bit at that and it was a testament to his good mood that his only reaction was a quiet chuckle. Now, everyone was staring at him as if he had gone insane.

He didn't give a kriff. At all.

“That's my parents, Leia Organa and Han Solo-” he introduced, foregoing their titles because Finn _was_ a brother to him and he didn't want him walking around calling them _Queen_ and _King_ like a servant all day. “And that is my husband, Armitage Organa-Solo.”

He didn't dare touch him, so his hand just awkwardly hovered somewhere at his back. What a lovely pair they made.

Finn looked a bit uncomfortable and he couldn't blame him. Everyone at the temple knew of him and Rey as a couple. They had been crazy for one another ever since she had arrived and people had always told them how strange it was when one of them was without the other – Something that usually only happened when they weren't on a mission together and one had to remain at the temple. It must be extremely strange for Finn to see Ben with someone else. Not that he and Armitage looked all that couple-y what with the fact that Chewbacca could comfortably fit between them if he wanted to. But still.

“It's an honour to meet you all,” Finn politely offered, bowing again.

“Oh, stop with the bowing!” he laughed, cutting off Armitage who was about to open his mouth, and clapped Finn on the shoulder who immediately flinched at the unexpected contact. Ben was surprised himself since he wasn't a tactile person at all, but he couldn't help himself. “I said, you're basically my brother. So, there's no need.”  
“Okay,” he mumbled, clearly rattled, and let himself be led when Ben grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the palace, completely uncaring of the fact that he just cut the entire introduction thing short.

“I'll show you around!” he announced loudly, so the others could also hear it, and he did actually do that. He rushed through the boring parts of the palace, showed him his chambers that were next to his and Armitage's for convenience purposes, and then took a lot more time to show him his favourite spots such as the secret passage that led to a flat part of the roof where he preferred to meditate. There, they were completely alone and Ben immediately grabbed him by the arms.

“How is Rey?” he blurted out. “Luke always says she's 'fine' and nothing more. Is she alright? How's her combat progress? I know she wants a double-blade but it's important that she manages to fight with a regular saber, too. Did she get to fly my ship? Luke promised he would take her- Oh, and is she still roommates with J'kyra or did she get my room? She hates J'kyra, Luke knows that, and she was basically living in my room anyway-”  
“Kriff, I'm relieved!” Finn exclaimed, laying a hand on his chest and sighing. Ben blinked in confusion. “You being weird was about Rey. You scared the hell out of me.”  
Ben let go of him.  
“No, I-” he stopped, feeling a bit stupid, and pressed his lips together for a second. “I'm genuinely happy to see you.”

Now Finn looked scared again.

“Oh,” he said, his gaze flickering between Ben and some random point next to his head. “I- But why? You hated me.”

“I didn't hate you. I was just jealous. You're a good-looking guy and your aura was all over Rey's room.”

“You think _I'm_ good-looking?” he asked, blinking wildly. “Please, as if Rey would even look at me when she has _tall_ , _dark_ and _handsome_ mooning over her.” Finn paused. “Or, well... had.”

The temperature around them dropped about 10 degrees.

“How is she?” he asked again, calmer this time, and with audible worry. Finn shook his head a bit.

“I'm not gonna lie to you, Ben,” he told him and the way he said it made him tense up. “She's not doing that well without you. I mean... She talks to people. And laughs. And she's doing well in combat, actually. She's still better at double-blade but she's also putting her back into single-blade. Oh, and she did actually get your room and ship. Last mission we went on, Luke picked her as the main pilot. She kicked ass.” Ben had to smile at that. “But she's... you know. Sad. When she thinks no one's looking. When we finished that mission three weeks ago, she was really happy and excited and I think she forgot that you weren't there anymore. She said something like 'Ben is gonna flip when he hears this' and then went really quiet. No one knew what to say or do. She really misses you. A lot.”

The pain that erupted in his chest at hearing that was immeasurable. Luke had been kind by telling him that she was _fine_ even though she clearly wasn't. Not really. It was heartbreaking to know that she was just as lonely without him as he was without her.

And that she was still in love with him when he was already in love with someone else.

The guilt he felt at that realisation bit into his consciousness like a rabid cur, leaving him hurt and bleeding and with the need to curl into a ball and just sleep for eternity.

Ben didn't know what kind of face he had been making, but it must have been bad if Finn got over his fear of him and started to rub his upper arms in an attempt to comfort him.

“She'll be fine,” he told him gently and tried for a reassuring smile. “It's only been a bit over two months.”

Ben nodded.

“Yes,” he agreed, quietly, almost absent-mindedly. “Yes, you're right.”

“How... how have you been?”

It was only then that Ben realised that no one had asked him that ever since he arrived, except for Luke.

“I-” he started but his voice broke. “I... I don't know. I don't feel... like myself.”

“The holonet is still gushing about your wedding and all that,” Finn told him. “But I mean... we all know the truth. In the temple. That the love story is fake. Must be weird to be married to a stranger.”

Ben nodded.

“It is,” he confessed, sitting down and crossing his legs. Finn did the same. “We don't know what to talk about. And we don't... do anything. He doesn't even find me attractive, so there's that.”

“Does he only like women?”

“No. At least, I don't think so. There's this pilot strutting around in the palace who flirts with him a lot. I think he finds that one attractive.”

“But- I mean, don't take this the wrong way. But you're kriffing hot.”  
His mouth fell open at that and he stared at Finn as if the guy had grown a second head. When he called him _tall, dark_ and _handsome_ , he had assumed that he had been quoting Rey since that was something she liked to call him a lot. Never would he have guessed that he actually _meant_ that. And there was no reason for him to lie about it. He could have just told him that he was sorry for his shitty marriage and moved on from the topic. That he decided to latch onto that must mean that he was telling the truth.

“You really think so?” he still asked, quietly, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Ben, the entire temple thinks so,” he laughed, staring at him with something like wonder. “Girls and boys have been crushing on you for years. Like, okay, you were an ass until you were like... 16, I think? But even then, no one thought you were unattractive. Just... you know. An ass. Once Rey tamed your terrible temper, you were like the number one guy to crush on. Hell, even I crushed on you for a bit until you almost threw me down the balcony.”  
Ben winced at that.

“I never apologised for that, did I?”

Finn laughed, shaking his head.

“I'm sorry for that,” he told him, mind still reeling from what he had been told a moment ago. Finn's words clashed with everything Ben had thought to be true. Sure, Rey thought he was gorgeous, but she was his girlfriend. To hear that apparently most of the Padawans had been _crushing_ on him, was... mind-boggling. “To be honest, I... I thought of myself as... well. Ugly. That's why I was so angry when I found out that you were in Rey's room. I was terrified that she would leave me for someone better looking.”

“Firstly, I don't even like girls. I didn't get to tell you that back then because you were hell-bent on murdering me, but there it is. Secondly, unlike you and Rey, I actually held on to my vows, you know. Thirdly, I'm flattered as well as astonished. We all thought you knew. I mean. The hair. And the tight outfits. And just that air of arrogance you carried everywhere.”

“I- No. I didn't. I don't. And my husband doesn't think I'm handsome either.”

“Strange,” Finn said and his surprise and confusion seemed absolutely genuine. “I mean, I guess people have different types. But still. I'd have no complaints in that department if I had to marry you.”

“I'm not sure if you're complimenting my looks or insulting my personality.”

“Honestly? Me neither. I thought you were an asshole, but... I don't know. You're alright at the moment.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Finn was laughing and shaking his head.

“Strange,” he repeated. “So _strange_.”

When Ben had shown him every single corner of the palace that he could think of, he immediately asked him for a duel. Training had become his least favourite thing to do, right after meditation, and he really wanted to change that. Sparing with a partner was fun and exciting, even though Finn did warn him that he was better at using the force with his mind than at lightsaber-wielding.

Ben didn't care the least bit. He just wanted someone to train with.

They went to the garden where Ben usually did this and he was glad that Finn didn't comment on the poor tree he had ruined a while ago. After all, the guy had probably seen many of his tantrums over the years in which some poor tree had to bear the brunt of his fury.

Taking in their positions, they ignited their respective lightsabers.

“You built a cross-guard one?” Finn asked and he sounded so impressed that Ben couldn't help but preen a bit. “They're really difficult to build properly!”

Proud and properly flattered, he spun the saber masterfully, letting the blue light cut through the air, the movement of his wrist at doing so appearing almost lazy. Ben had been the best lightsaber fighter in the entire temple, second only to Luke himself. It showed and he knew it.

“Yours is nice, too,” he told him earnestly. “Traditional. Like Luke's.”  
It was a green one with a simple silvery hilt. It fit him perfectly from what little Ben knew about Finn.

“It's the colour of Jedi Consulars,” he told him with a smile, obviously proud himself that the Trial of the Spirit had led him to that particular stone. “We're better at connecting with the force and fight the Dark at it's heart.”

Ben smirked, cocking his head a bit: “And what does mine mean?”

“Blue means you're a Jedi Guardian,” Finn said, preparing for the fight as he planted his feet and got a good grip on his saber. “So, basically, you strike first and ask questions later.”

Spinning his lightsaber again, he couldn't help but laugh at the accuracy of his words. Even though his connection to the force was extremely strong, he _was_ better at the physical aspects of being a Jedi. Using and therefore controlling the force was overwhelming for him at times. Using his lightsaber, by contrast, was easy. He didn't have to _think_ then. Ben just... disappeared in it.

“True,” he admitted, almost gleefully. “So let's ask questions later, shall we?”

When their lightsabers met with a sizzling hiss, Ben suddenly felt like himself again. He knew this. He _loved_ this.

Finn was a lot shorter than him, but he was also a bit stocky which meant that he had zero physical advantages over Ben. What he did have, though, was courage. His hits and attacks were a bit messy and all over the place, but they were done with confidence and vigour and Ben couldn't help but admire him for it. His defence was excellent as he met every single one of his increasingly aggressive hits, though, he couldn't hold his position for long. Ben always forced his opponents to move backward, it weakened their footing and they lost a bit of focus on what they were doing with their hands, trying not to fall or be led into corners, walls or obstacles. It was the same with Finn, of course, and it became visibly difficult for him to fight off Ben's bone-rattling strokes while also manipulating their direction away from any trees or bushes.

Hit. Hit. _Spin_.

He could feel the fabric of his long robes smacking against his legs, his hair whipping into his face and the second he hit Finn's saber, throwing his entire body weight into the movement, the shorter body collapsed at the impact. Taking a step back, he smirked at his opponent who was lying on the grass, panting and clearly a bit disoriented from his fall.

“Kriffing hell,” he swore as he got back on his feet and for a moment, Ben thought that he wanted to stop. To his surprise and utter delight, Finn readjusted his grip on the silver hilt, clearly ready to continue fighting.

“ _ **Woohoo**_ , _kick his ass_!” a voice yelled from somewhere above them and they both looked up, seeing two men standing on a balcony. It was Poe Dameron – and Armitage.

He couldn't help but scowl at the thought that they were in the middle of spending time with each other, _again_. Even though, he hadn't heard the pilot flirt with his husband even once after throwing him into a wall, he was convinced that he simply decided to continue his wooing attempts out of his sight and hearing range. And Armitage was probably as receptive as ever, all shy and quietly flattered. Ben almost growled at the thought.

“The pilot?” Finn asked and he just snorted as an answer, clearly displeased. “I get what you mean now.”

He was probably referring to the fact that Poe Dameron was kriffing attractive. Which he was. It was enough to drive him mad with jealousy.

“What happened to me being tall, dark and handsome?” he asked, spinning his saber again as he circled Finn, trying not to look at his husband being courted like a blushing virgin by that nerf herder.

“Still applies,” he answered, parrying his first stroke with ease. “But the guy's hot.”

Fighting with an audience felt quite different than what they had been doing before. It wasn't just fun anymore – Instead, it almost felt like a test. He wanted to impress Armitage, wanted to show him what a strong and skilled fighter his husband was, wanted to make him see that he was-

Ben didn't even really know.

All he knew, was that he couldn't afford losing now. Not that Finn was an actual threat to him, but the nervousness that was only now added to the mix, did make him a weaker opponent. Leaning back to avoid being decapitated, he felt this sizzling heat of the green lightsaber miss the bridge of his nose _just so_. The next few seconds he spent with deflecting all of Finn's strokes, mind reeling with thoughts of Armitage and Poe being alone together, of them _watching him_. Poe surely wanted him to lose and have his ass handed to him. He didn't know what Armitage wanted. If he even cared or only looked on because the pilot wanted to watch.

The displeasure he felt was so distracting, that he failed to evade Finn's surprisingly powerful force push. He could only imagine how comical the backward fall of a man of his height had to look like – Long limbs rendered useless as his head collided with the ground, sweat-damp locks whipping into and out of his face, barely holding onto his lightsaber.

Poe was cheering somewhere above them and Ben felt the anger within rising, scorching hot like fire rushing through his veins. The voice had been right about two things: Using his anger made him powerful. And he wanted everything around him to _burn_ with it.

With a little help from the force, Ben threw his body up and forward, extending a leg and spinning, sweeping Finn off his feet in one fluid motion. With their roles reversed, Poe was immediately silenced and he had to smirk at having ruined his fun.

Finn stumbled back on his feet, sweat rolling down his temples like watery pearls and when he charged at him to strike, Ben threw one of his long legs up, kicking him in the chest and using the force to make the impact so powerful that he _flew_ back before crashing into the ground.

Coughing and sputtering, Finn switched off his lightsaber, clearly admitting defeat.

Ben immediately felt bad for having hit him as hard as he did.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” he asked, offering the poor guy his hand. To his relief, Finn accepted, grabbing his lower arm and letting himself be pulled back into an upright position.

“You've got quite a kick,” he chuckled, patting at his white tunic to get rid of the earthy footprint on it. “I almost forgot how good of a fighter you are. I think the last time we sparred was three years ago?”

“Sounds probable. Luke rarely let me fight the older Padawans.”

“He probably wanted to spare our egos from being completely shattered by losing to you. You're insane with that thing.”

“I hope you're not hurt?”

“I'm fine. No thanks to you, but I'm fine.”

Finn was laughing despite his jab and Ben smiled at the relief he felt.

“I could teach you,” he offered with a shrug. “Your technique could do with a bit of polishing.”

“I won't say no to some good lessons.”

Their companionable togetherness was interrupted by the voice he wanted to hear _least_. When the kriff did Poe leave the balcony?

“Good fight there!” Dameron shouted, still on his way over to them with Armitage in tow. “I thoroughly enjoyed seeing our night monk get a few hits in.”

Ben rolled his eyes, jaw tense, and let his gaze flicker to Armitage. His husband looked cold and unaffected as ever – But his aura was brimming with something he had never felt coming from him before. When the pair reached them, he recognised what it was.

Arousal.

The realisation felt like a hot sting between his legs and he couldn't help but feel his body heat up at the mere thought of his husband being _aroused_. That short moment of elation didn't last, however, once he noticed that it wasn't him he was looking at.

Armitage's gaze was firmly focused on Finn.

How could it be that he seemed to prefer _every single man_ setting foot in the palace over his _own kriffing husband_? Jealousy, anger, and frustration replaced any sexual desire with such a vengeance that Finn flinched at feeling his change of emotions through the force.

“I bet you did,” Ben hissed, switching off his lightsaber before he killed both Poe and Finn. Though the latter really didn't deserve his fury and he knew it. It hurt, though. It hurt that Armitage seemed to find _him_ attractive when he had no interest in the man he married. The man must be as sex-starved and blue-balled as he was and yet, there was no arousal whatsoever when sleeping in the same bed as him while Ben was mostly naked. But here he was – Getting turned on by _Finn_ who seemed to drown in his loose, white Jedi robe, showing no skin whatsoever except for his neck and hands.

Both Poe and Finn were better looking than him, yes.

But he was his husband. He was supposedly _tall_ , _dark_ and _handsome_ , the object of desire of dozens of Padawans as it seemed and yet- _Yet_ -

“You're a fantastic swordsman,” Armitage said, his blue eyes finally focusing on _him_ instead of Finn. “Congratulations on your win.”

“I was rooting for you, though,” Poe told Finn with a charming smile and it was obvious that the poor guy didn't know what to say to that. It made Ben even angrier that Dameron seemed to have no qualms about flirting with another guy in front of the man he was trying to get into bed with. Also, Finn was good-looking, yes, but he completely paled in attractiveness compared to Armitage.

Why the kriff Poe would decide to risk his chances with a man like his husband to flirt with someone he could never get his hands on was a complete and utter mystery to him. Surely, he must realise that the guy was chaste, right?

Between being married and chaste, one might think he would realise that the former was easier to handle.

And why the kriff was he insulted on Armitage's behalf?

“I'm going to shower,” he mumbled, brushing past Poe and barely holding back from shouldering or kicking him as he did so. Stomping, Ben made his way to their chambers, starting to peel himself out of his sweaty robes, the second the door fell closed behind him. Throwing his clothes all over the room, he kicked one of his boots to their wardrobe before moving on to the bathroom. In his rage, he didn't notice the bedroom door open until he heard a gasp of surprise. He turned around, fingers hooked into the waistband of his undershorts as he had been in the middle of taking them off, exposing his hipbones and the beginnings of dark pubic hair.

Armitage was standing by the bathroom door, staring at him. His body was stiff, back ramrod-straight, a muscle jumping at his jaw. It had been a while since he had seen the man look so very uncomfortable and it made him want to scream that _that_ was his reaction to seeing him almost naked. When he felt through the force, he was only met with a barrier.

Finn made Armitage's barrier break while drowning in at least five layers of clothing but seeing Ben's exposed body did _nothing_?

“What is it?” he snapped, clearly irritated. Armitage scowled. “Do you want to join me or what?”

Red blotches appeared all over the man's face and his gaze seemed to flicker to the ground for a second before he returned to glaring at him.

“I just wanted to make sure that you aren't feeling unwell,” he told him, prickly, his accent sharper than usual. “You are obviously fine, so I will take my leave.”

With three long strides, he was standing right in front of him, caging him in by leaning against the door frame with both hands. Armitage immediately moved as far back from him as possible, visibly uncomfortable and irritable.

“And what if I'm not?” he asked, voice low and deep, leaning into his husband's space, trying and succeeding in making him turn even redder. “What if I _am_ unwell?”

The breath Armitage took sounded a bit shaky, but his eyes were meeting his head-on, refusing to be intimidated by him. _Fearless_ , his mind whispered and he couldn't help but feel a sting of arousal at the proximity and those _eyes_.

“Why do you always have to be like this?” Armitage asked with a slight sneer, looking him up and down as if assessing his value and finding him lacking.

“Like what?” he pressed, stepping even closer, the tips of their noses almost touching. He could hear the blood rushing through his veins, his heart beating hard and fast against his chest. Armitage remained as composed as ever. “Come on. Tell me. What am I like?”

“Let me go.”

“Tell me.”

“Do you really want to hear it?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he hissed, dreading the answer but needing to hear it all the same. “Tell me what you think of me.”

Ben could feel Armitage breathe in and out through his nose, slowly, like a cat before attacking its victim.

“Alright,” he whispered and then leaned up, right into his face, like a bull challenging him to try and attack him. “I think that you are an arrogant, spoilt infant who is only happy when throwing tantrums and having everyone around you cowering in fear of you. Sometimes, you act like a decent human being but it is always short-lived and usually followed up by you rearing that ugly head of yours.”

A beat of silence.

Arrogant. Spoilt.

 _Ugly_.

Ben felt his face fall before seeing Armitage's glare softening into something that almost looked like pity. Red lips opened as if wanting to say something, but he didn't want to hear it. He had heard enough. Any more and he would lose the last scrap of dignity he had left.

“I prefer being an infant over being a soulless robot like you,” he spat, pushing himself off of him. “Go before I _make_ you.”

Armitage's jaw tensed, a flicker of anger passing the blue of his eyes. Then, he turned and left.

Angry, Ben took off the golden band that he _hated_ and threw it after him, even though he was long gone. He didn't even stay long enough to see where the hell it landed, and instead finally went to take that shower.

Missing dinner, he spent the entire evening meditating on his spot on the roof. It had been a while since he had to put something in a jar, but that day, he filled two of them up and shelved them.

Armitage was lying with his back to him when he returned to their room in the middle of the night.

He told himself that he didn't give a kriff.

It was a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all can hit me if you want to. Even I feel like hitting me.


	13. I can't pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Finn found love in each other. Ben and Armitage have to endure it. Ben snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that it took me this long! But I had like 3 exams this week that were absolute hell for me 'cause I'm absolutely rubbish at science stuff. I mean, I still flunked them probably, but I had to at least try to study haha  
> This chapter isn't really smut, but as close as we will get for a while, so enjoy it, peoples!

Finn broke his vows.

It was entirely unexpected and, yet, unsurprising in a way. Poe, who had been sticking to Armitage like a particularly persistent nail fungus ever since he arrived, had suddenly lost all interest in his husband. While Finn trained and meditated with him every morning without fail, he was very hard to find every other time of the day when not using the force. And whenever he did so, Ben could feel another familiar presence with him – Dameron, the kriffer.

Apparently, the guy loved a challenge. With Armitage he had either failed, lost patience or realised that it was stupid to try and seduce a prince married to a very dangerous force user who in turn had very powerful parents, one of whom was his direct superior. So, Finn it was. Chaste, noble, devout Finn who had nothing to fear except repulsion from the Jedi Order - but that wasn't the pilot's problem, now, was it? Poe wouldn't have to live with the consequences after all. With Finn being an orphan, there were no powerful parents to ruin his life since Luke certainly wouldn't try to avenge his former student's purity. And there was no angry, force-wielding husband, either.

The poor guy had no protection against Dameron's advances. None whatsoever.

So, Ben wasn't surprised at all when he stared at the dark ceiling of his marital chambers, lying next to his equally awake husband, and listened to the most indecent of sounds.

For one, Finn's bed was apparently just behind theirs, only separated by the wall – Probably to make it easier for him to guard over Ben's mind at night. - and therefore, they were basically fucking right next to them. The bedframe was knocking against the wall, _hard_ , their moans were muffled as if they were trying to keep somewhat quiet but failed spectacularly, and he could understand every word of praise or wonder coming from their lips.

Apparently Finn was hung like a horse and Poe was _very_ tight. To be honest, he hadn't expected the cocky pilot to be the one on the receiving end and it made him wonder, again, if Armitage preferred being the one on top. He didn't know how to feel about that because he himself had no actual desire to be fucked that way.

But it wasn't like his husband wanted to sleep with him anyway. So thinking about either of their preferences was pointless.

What he did wonder, though, was whether or not Armitage was... well. Heartbroken. After all, Dameron had been very adamant in his attempts to woo him and it did seem like the attraction was mutual. Actually, he wouldn't put it past either of them to have actually fucked in some remote chamber in the palace. Either way, it must be disappointing and strange for Armitage to have been replaced so suddenly and ruthlessly by another man, though, it was hard to tell what with his mind barrier and excellent control over his facial expressions.

When there was a particularly loud moan and something that sounded like a slap, his husband _did_ flinch though.

A part of him actually wanted to comfort Armitage and wasn't that just kriffed up? Comforting your own husband because his suitor had found another lover?

He risked a glance towards him but the insufferable man was still stubbornly turning his back on him every single night. Neither had apologised or even tried to talk to one another after their little spat a few weeks back. There was no point, either. Ben was in love with him, yes, but Armitage's words had only confirmed what he had already known: That his husband would never love him back. That he didn't even _like_ Ben. In any respect.

It was painful knowledge and even now, with embarrassing sexual sounds filling the room, he felt his eyes burn at the mere thought.

Several times a day he found himself turning his words over inside his head, again and again, trying to make sense of them. Armitage believed him to be arrogant. He wasn't sure why. Finn had said the same, though: All of the Padawans had shared that particular opinion. But that he could see - It made sense. He was the best force-wielder and warrior in the entire temple and it was easy to confuse genuine talent with arrogance. It wasn't his fault that he was born with such a high sensitivity to the force and there was no point in pretending to not be a skilled fighter. All of that came to him naturally and even though he found it unfair to be labelled _arrogant_ because of that, he couldn't blame them. His solitary ways probably hadn't helped either.

So, he understood them. Really.

But he didn't understand Armitage. What had he done ever since he arrived to make him think of Ben as arrogant? Maybe it was the talk about his bloodline that had done it. Maybe, he interpreted his story about the voice in his head as some sick form of overblown self-importance. Maybe, he had lied back then when he told Ben that he believed him. That was the only plausible explanation that he could think of since there wasn't anything else about him that he didn't feel insecure about. Surely, Armitage must have noticed how stupid he felt during every meal, listening to all of them talk about things he had no idea about. And surely, he hadn't done anything to make the man believe that Ben was vain or even thought of himself as particularly good-looking. He had never implied anything of the like.

The word 'spoilt' confused him, too. He was aware that Ben had spent most of his life in the temple – A strict, humble and sometimes rough way of living. There had been no luxuries inside of the temple, nevermind his heritage, as he had worn the same rough robes, had slept in the same uncomfortable beds, had eaten the same bland but nutritious food, had endured the same training and lessons and missions like everybody else. His life had been far from princely or anything that would come even close to resulting in him being _spoilt_.

The comment about his temper, though – That one was justified. He knew that but he still couldn't help feeling hurt by it. Ben didn't _like_ throwing tantrums and he was most certainly _not_ happy to be caught in fits of rage or having people be afraid of him. Before their spat he had been doing well, too. The nightmare-incident aside, he had been perfectly quiet and only ever had 'tantrums' by himself, letting his anger out on the poor tree in the garden. They had calm, short talks and they had been sleeping on their backs next to each other for almost a month before the unfortunate force-choking that he had been supposedly forgiven of.

So why did he say that he was rarely a _decent human being_?

Then the thing about his looks.

That had been uncalled for.

For a moment, Finn had him question the way he saw himself in terms of his physical appearance. If so many Padawans had thought him to be good-looking enough to allegedly crush on him and call him _tall_ , _dark_ and _handsome_ , then he couldn't be all that ugly, right?

But then, hours later, Armitage had completely shattered that tiny bit of newly acquiered self-confidence.

 _That ugly head of yours_.

Ben pressed his lips into a thin line, staring at his husband's red, tousled hair and his long, freckled neck. Even in the dark and with his back turned on him, he was an absolute vision and he felt his heart burn at the very sight of him. Every cell in his body felt attracted to Armitage and it was torture to even be in the same room as him, the atmosphere cold and suffocating.

“ _Yes, right there_ -”

And now, he had to endure _that_ , too.

Finn was just as tired as he was when he joined him on the roof for their daily meditation. And he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Ben had heard _everything_ that had gone on the night before. As he greeted him and sat in front of him, legs crossed, he seemed like he wanted to plunge into meditation right away and for a moment he contemplated letting him. But.

“So, you're not chaste anymore,” he said and Finn blanched as much as it was possible for a man with such a stunning complexion as he had. “No need to panic. I won't rat you out to Luke if that's what you're afraid of.”

A little bit of the tension in his shoulders seemed to dissipate but he still looked fidgety and wary.

“You... you heard us?”

“The walls are only _so_ thick, Finn.”

His cheeks turned from a pale brown to _very dark_. His mouth did something that looked like an ' _oh_ ' but no sound left his lips. There was a bit of uncomfortable silence before Finn finally found his voice again: “Did you feel... bad? After... you know. Your first time.”

“No,” he answered without hesitation and as honest as possible. “No, I didn't. I had wanted to sleep with Rey for months before it actually happened. After, I felt like a king.”

Finn smiled a bit and he seemed relieved.

“I only feel bad for not feeling bad about it,” he confessed and averted his gaze for a second. “If that makes sense?”

“It does.”

“Poe is really great,” he continued and Ben's heart ached when he saw the smitten look on the other man's face. “And he really likes me.” When Finn saw the scepticism on his face, he quickly added: “I felt it. Through the force. That thing with Armitage was just desire. He still feels it a little bit when he looks at him which is normal, I guess. But it's completely different when he's with me. There's this... warmth. And longing. And last night, he was genuinely happy. I never felt him being so _happy_.”

“Sex is quite the happy activity.”

Finn laughed.

“No, I didn't mean- I mean, yes, he was happy during that. But I meant before. He told me, he liked me and I said that I liked him, too. It felt like... a tiny explosion?”

Ben couldn't help feeling envious of him having the privilege to _know_ what his partner is feeling. Though, he probably didn't want to know what kind of terrible things his husband thought and felt around him. But still.

“That's great, Finn,” he smiled and he meant every word. “I'm happy for you.”

He was. He really was. And he let the other man feel it, too, sending him waves of joy. Seeing Finn, a man that he now considered to be his first _friend_ , beam at that, made his heart melt a little bit. At least, _someone_ was finding love in this place.

“But try to keep it down next time.”

He didn't.

Armitage was annoyed. His aura was brimming with it as he laid in bed next to him, forced to listen to the almost pornographic ruckus happening next to them. There was also something that he could identify as jealousy but it was muted due to him still trying to keep his emotions hidden. It was no wonder that he was failing, though – They hadn't properly slept for almost two weeks at this point and Ben didn't really want to bring it up again when talking to Finn, worried that he could ruin that happy cloud he was in.

But he was losing his patience, too.

It also hurt to know that his husband was jealous of Finn sleeping with his former suitor. He tried not to think about that too much.

“Isn't he supposed to _guard your mind_ while you sleep?” Armitage asked, irritated and like it was _Ben_ 's fault that the guy decided to chuck his chastity out of the window and make their nights worse than they already were.

And wasn't it sad that those were his first words to Ben since their fight?

“Well,” he started, feeling a bit attacked but trying not to show it. “He is, in a way. No sleep, no visions.”

A snort. It didn't sound amused, though.

When the noise didn't stop for what felt like an eternity something in him snapped.

“Kriffing hell!”, he shouted, making Armitage flinch and _finally_ turn to look at him over his shoulder. The mattress made some pathetic sounds when he rolled unto his stomach, kicking the blanket away. He grabbed the headboard to support his immense weight and pulled one of his knees in which allowed him to lift his hips a bit.

Armitage was staring at him before he whisper-hissed: “ _What are you doing_?”

“Giving them a taste of their own medicine,” he answered with angry determination before he thrust against air, making the bed creak miserably and bang against the wall with a force that those two assholes in the other room could only dream of.

His gaze was firmly fixed on his pillow, arms straining as he pretended to fuck someone, hard and _loud_.

The noise from the other room stopped abruptly.

Grinning in triumph, he didn't stop though. He put even more vigour into it, making the bed and probably even the wall shake, breathing loudly on purpose. Armitage was staring at him, he could feel it, but he didn't say or do anything.

Until he turned on his back.

And moaned.

Ben froze, almost losing balance as he stopped to look at his husband with pure, hard shock written all over his face. Blue eyes met his gaze unwaveringly, mind-barrier up and impenetrable.

“Don't stop-” Armitage moaned, but his face was scowling and basically screaming: ' _You started this, now finish it_!'

Biting his bottom lip, he recovered quickly and resumed fake-fucking the mattress, feeling his hair whipping with the movement and his muscles ripple underneath his own skin. They were still looking at each other and he felt heat engulfing his entire body, an almost violent sting between his legs.

Armitage's lids looked heavy, the blue of his eyes partly hidden underneath those long, pale lashes and when he opened his red lips to pant and moan as if he was having the best fuck of his life, he couldn't help feeling aroused by it. He was really glad that their sheets were just as dark as his pants, so it was improbable that anyone could see the giant bulge between his legs in the darkness of the night.

Despite having zero contact with anything but his clothes, he almost came when Armitage screamed _Ben_.

“ _Ben_ \- Yes, yes, yes _yes_ _ **yes**_....!” he _cried_ , tossing his head left and right as if he was barely surviving the intensity of the sensation that his dick inside him ignited. For a moment, he forgot that they were just pretending. His gaze was fixed firmly on his husband's lovely face, brows drawn together and red lips wide open with faked pleasure.

Whenever their eyes met, Ben groaned with a shudder, thrusting harder and harder, the bed creaking like it was a second away from breaking in half or falling apart completely as the headboard collided with the wall with a brutality that Ben hadn't quite realised he had in him when it came to sex. Sex with Rey had been fun and sometimes wild in a way, but never _hard_. Not the way, he was pretending with Armitage.

Armitage, who was also moving as if he was actually being fucked, legs spread wide and hands grabbing the headboard over his head to help with the wall-knocking.

He wondered how many men had seen him like that.

Had seen him falling apart.

Jealousy ran through his body and he pushed even harder, harder, _harder_ , prompting his husband to adjust the volume of his moans.

Ben wanted to grab the knee that was bumping against his hip and _pull_. _Pull_ until that beautiful, slender body was lying underneath him, their groins moving against each other, Armitage's warm ivory skin his to touch. He wanted to kiss him. After being married to him for months now, the sensation of their kiss at their wedding was mostly forgotten. But he _did_ remember that those beautifully curved lips were soft. Soft and a little bit dry until that mouth was pried open – Then, it was _moist_ and _hot_.

Armitage's knee now rested completely on his hip, legs spread _wide_ as if daring him to make this entire thing real. He wished, he could see whether he was aroused or not, but his lower body was still covered with two blankets that had slipped down to reveal his – unfortunately – clothed chest. Ben wanted to see his skin, wanted to see those pink little nipples and his delicate collarbone. Kriff, he would be happy seeing his _armpit_ at this point.

The loud moans turned shaky and a bit high-pitched until Armitage stopped his own movements. It took Ben a moment to realise that the man had faked an orgasm. He adjusted his thrusts, turning them from brutal to gentle, so that there were only the bed's little creaks and Ben's panting filling the silence of the room.

“You're beautiful,” he couldn't help but moan and Armitage stared for a moment before frowning at him.

That snapped him back into reality.

He pretended to thrust a little harder another two, three times before groaning and letting his weight collapse on the bed.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Armitage's knee was gone as he, once again, turned his back on Ben. At least, Finn and Poe remained silent after that.

His erection was burning between his body and the mattress but he couldn't risk humping himself to completion or using his hand. So, he just remained lying on his stomach, covering himself with the blanket he had discarded by using the force, and felt sorry for himself like the pathetic creature he was.

Now he knew what Armitage's moans sounded like. He didn't know what to do with that.

“So... You and Armitage finally did it?” was what Finn decided to start their conversation with when they met on the roof for meditation.

Ben was already sitting, eyes closed, and he couldn't help the sneer when he thought of how easy it had been for his husband to just turn his back on him and go to sleep after... _that_.

“We only did it to demonstrate you just how thin our walls are,” he answered, not lying, but also not disclosing the entire truth.

“You... you had sex _out of spite_?”

Ben grunted non-committally, still avoiding to outright lie, else Finn would feel it through the force. The guy really was good at reading auras and Ben has never been good at hiding stuff. His energy was as expressive as his face and eyes – Just... too much. Always too much.

He wondered if Armitage had seen how much he wanted him written all over his features.

“It was hardly out of love,” Ben muttered, his brows drawing together as his concentration was fading. Meditating would be a challenge today.

A beat of silence.

“You do, though,” Finn said, somewhat quietly, and his eyes flew open to stare at the other knight. “Your energy is almost bursting with it whenever he's around. Yesterday, too, even through the wall.”

Ben tried to keep his facial features as even as possible as he closed his eyes again, suddenly feeling tense. He confessed: “I do.” A pause. “But he doesn't. I think he went with it to get back at Dameron for abandoning him.”

“I highly doubt that,” Finn disagreed, the fabric of his heavy multi-layered robes rustling a bit as he sat down. “It was him that rejected Poe long before I even entered the picture.”

His eyes flew open _again_.

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded and blinking owlishly. Finn looked at him with a mixture of pity and 'I-can't-believe-you're-this-dense.'

“Poe told me about how you threw him against a wall and threatened him for flirting. He was pretty pissed because as far as he knew you're the coldest, shittiest husband on the planet and Armitage deserved someone's attention,” Finn told him, clearly quoting his boyfriend, and he tried not to get offended at that description. If anyone was cold it was Armitage, not _him_. He was.... well. Angry. But not cold. “He was also pretty convinced that you... well. Hurt him. Physically.”

At that, he blanched first – and then his face heat up in anger.

“I would never-!” he started but Finn held a hand up.

“I know, you don't need to tell me,” he placated him, trying to sooth his anger through the force like Luke had tried when he was a kid. It still didn't work but he let him anyway. “Luke explained the entire vision-incident when he asked me to come and guard you. It wasn't your fault.”

At that, he deflated like a balloon. Relief and regret were coursing through his veins, making him feel light and heavy at once.

“Anyway,” Finn resumed. “He offered Armitage to elope with him.”

The anger was back.

“ _He did_ _ **what**_?”

Ben had half a mind to stand up, seek the kriffer out and _kill_ him. It was the waves of fear and panic emanating from Finn that stopped him and kept him planted on the floor, seething internally at the thought that he had been stabbed in the back like that. Sure, Poe couldn't stand him and the feeling was mutual but actively trying to get his husband to leave him- It still felt like betrayal. His mother trusted the pilot and invited him into their home and that was his thanks?

“Armitage rejected him.”

“Of course, he did. There would have been war if he hadn't.”

“He told Poe, he loves you.”

Ben stilled.

His heart ached.

“He said that to get him off his back,” he said, his voice quiet and weak-sounding. “Armitage won't even talk to me.”

“But he sleeps with you?”

“No,” he confessed, seeing no point in keeping Finn in the dark. After all, the noise-lesson was probably learnt and he couldn't fake-fuck his husband every single night. Ben would probably die if he had to listen to Armitage moan like that again and yet be refused any actual sex. “We didn't actually fuck. I just... kinda humped the bed. And he did the noises to shut you up.”

Finn looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or feel bad for him and ended up doing both. His chuckle sounded a bit sad, though, and it made Ben feel even more pathetic than he already did.

“Don't tell Dameron, though,” he whispered, embarrassed, and only now realising how stupid and childish he had acted the night before. “And please, try to let us sleep. It's extremely uncomfortable for us to listen to that. The mood is bad enough without you two showing off how lucky you are that you like each other.”

Finn looked properly chastised at that.

When he and his husband went to bed – separately, Ben had already been underneath the covers for an hour when Armitage joined him – there was blissed silence coming from the room next to them. He couldn't help feeling both relieved and disappointed.

Armitage turned his back on him.

Ben stayed on his back.


	14. Where we used to bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starblossom Festival is coming up and Ben learns a lot about Armitage... though not by asking him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took me a bit haha And it's not even finished. I decided to split this chapter in two because it was getting too damn long and I didn't want to make you people wait too much. Hope you like it!

The Starblossom Festival was coming up.

Ben hated it.

It had been well over a decade since he last had to attend one of those celebratory balls and he had not missed it the least bit. While people in the cities probably had a wonderful time during such events, the Alderaanian Royalty was stuck inside their palace – as always – to host senators and other Royals from the Regency Worlds and now even the Core Worlds.

He wasn't sure what he dreaded the most: The event itself or the arrival of the Huxes.

Ever since Leia had broached the subject, Armitage was... jumpy. To say the least. Him walking around as if he had a lightsaber shoved up his ass was the norm, true, but now he was even tenser than usual. And wasn't that just scary? Ben wasn't used to seeing his husband rattled in any way, shape or form and it was obvious that Armitage was trying his absolute best to hide the fact that he was most likely terrified. He absolutely hated seeing him like that but he also didn't know what to do to make it better. After all, they still weren't talking and Ben didn't know how to comfort anyone even when he thought that his attempt at doing so would be welcomed. Whenever Rey had been upset, all he had to do was hold her hand or hug her or fuck her and she would be fine. He couldn't do any of that with Armitage.

Though he was very tempted to try as he watched his husband sitting in the garden and reading the same page of his book for the last twenty minutes or so. One of his pale, slender hands was clenching and unclenching in intervals and his lower lip was even redder than usual from all the biting he was subjecting it to. It was clear from the lack of eye movement that he was just staring at his book while his thoughts were somewhere else entirely. Ben felt like wrapping his fingers around that fidgety hand and kissing his abused lips until all of that terrible tension was replaced with affection and, hopefully, even arousal.

God, he really wanted to fuck all that fear out of him.

When Armitage suddenly looked up to frown at him, Ben almost flinched and wondered if he had just said that out loud.

“Is there something you need?” his husband snapped, clearly irritated, but thankfully not disgusted or horrified. His thoughts were safe, then.

“Yes, actually,” he answered truthfully, feeling nervous and also a bit stupid. “It's tradition to give presents to loved ones during the Starblossom Festival. I was wondering what you would like me to get you.”

Armitage's mouth opened as if he wanted to snap at him again, but then he stilled as if he had just registered his words. There was surprise written all over his face, apprehension and something that looked almost shy. His blue eyes flickered from Ben's face to his black-clad chest and back. It was... endearing.

“I-” he started, stopped, and then scowled as if he was angry at himself. Or Ben. Or both. “That is not necessary.”

“Yes, it is,” he disagreed but tried to keep his voice as soft and non-threatening as possible. “There will be guests and parts of the ball will be broadcasted. I refuse to insult you publicly by not getting you anything.”

Surprise again.

It made him sad that Armitage had apparently expected him to do just that.

“Just take a few books from the library, wrap them up and pretend to give them to me,” Armitage finally told him, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. “I don't need or want anything.”

 _From you_ , remained unsaid.

“Armitage-”

“Would you kindly leave me alone now?”

His mouth shut immediately and he pressed his lips into a thin line, pondering whether or not he should insist or do as he was told. His husband already turned back to staring at his book, now even tenser than before. Fine. Okay.

Disappointed and just a little bit offended, he retreated to their shared chamber in the palace, wondering if he should ask his parents for advice. After all, they knew Armitage quite well what with him being the son they always wanted but never had and all that. But that was exactly the reason why he didn't want to involve them.

Thinking of a present might have been easier if Armitage had any possessions. Looking through his stuff might have given him a better idea of what he might appreciate as a gift but since there was no stuff to look through, he was left pacing the room and thinking. A little desperate, he did sneak a peek at the content of Armitage's bedside drawer but found it devastatingly empty. The only thing in there, except for the podracing novel and tissues, was the man's private holocube.

It would be a violation of trust to open it.

But it was also the only thing that could give him an idea of what the man actually enjoyed. Nervous, he felt through the force to make sure that Armitage was still in the garden before taking the holocube and taking a seat on the bed. For a few moments, he simply held it.

It was an old model, that much was obvious. Strange, that a man like Armitage would hold on to a holocube that was at least five years old instead of buying himself a new one. Maybe he should get him the latest model? But that seemed far too impersonal.

Activating it, he was both glad and surprised to find that it wasn't locked. A blue screen came to life in front of his face and there were so many folders that Ben felt a bit dizzy by just looking at them.

“Here goes nothing,” he whispered and tapped at a random one, hoping that there was something useful to be found.

Blueprints. Thousands of kriffing blueprints.

Armitage was an engineer, he knew that much, but he was still baffled when he saw the sheer amount of designs and ideas for weapons, ships, shuttles, and something that looked like a speeder bike. Or was it?

When he tapped on it to open the file and look at it properly, he was surprised to see that it was a podracer. And a terrifying one at that. It was all sleek lines, sharp edges, and hidden weapons. He was sure that if he would enter a podrace with that thing, he would be the only one coming out alive.

Extremely impressed, he closed the folder. While it was very interesting to see what kind of dangerous and brilliant things Armitage could come up with, it wasn't a lot of help when it came to gift ideas.

Scrolling through the folders, he once again tapped at one at random.

They were Ben's mission reports.

Even though he had already known that Armitage had them, he was still taken aback when he opened one and found his own words staring back at him. Ben wasn't the most eloquent of people and he was a bit embarrassed when he realised that _this_ was the only thing Armitage had ever seen of him for 9 years. He wouldn't blame him if he thought Ben to be a brainless brute after being subjected to... well. That. Luke had always praised him for them but only because he knew how much effort he had put into them as he had always been awfully aware of how lacking he was in the wording department. It had taken his uncle a lot of encouragement to even get him to write anything and Ben had always cringed when forced to proof-read them.

Terrible. Just terrible.

He quickly left the folder again, feeling the warmth that settled on his cheeks, cursing himself for not knowing at the time that his husband was reading those. He might have given them to Rey for editing if he had known. But that would have been terrible on a whole other level.

Shaking his head, he scrolled to the very bottom and once again chose one at random.

And then closed it immediately.

Tapped on it again.

Closed it.

Kriffing hell.

Armitage was a young and obviously sexually active man, so it shouldn't have shocked him as much as it did, but... But. The mere idea of Armitage watching _porn_ was so bizarre-

Taking in a deep breath, he tapped on it again.

Yep. It was porn. Lots of porn. More porn than Ben had seen in his whole life – Which, to be fair, wasn't much since he had lived in a temple with one holocube that they all had to share and hadn't felt the need for a lot of masturbation when he could just fuck his girlfriend, but still.

It was so much porn, he could actually scroll through it. Why the hell did he even _download_ porn? Couldn't he just stream it through some illegal holonet sites like everyone else? And why was that folder as easily available as it was? Had he never heard of _passwords_ before?

Or was it just that he _trusted_ Ben to not-

Now he felt bad.

And yet, he couldn't stop himself from staring at all those recordings. There wasn't a single woman in sight, so at least Ben was now sure that Armitage was exclusively attracted to men. Young men. They didn't even look like Dameron's age, who was in his very early 30s – No, they were all ranging from 18 to 25 tops. White. Dark-haired. Tall. Gangly.

Very gangly.

Was that it? Was Ben too- too _broad_? All this time, he had thought his muscles were the only attractive attribute he could bring to the table and now he found out that those were the actual _problem_?

Because aside from those guys being very thin and awkward-looking, they didn't look all that different from him. Sure, they were all a lot more handsome than he was in the face department. But still. They were exactly his colour type.

And alone.

It was only then that he noticed that those were all videos of guys masturbating by themselves and no actual couples having sex with each other. The guys weren't even shoving anything up their backside, just... jerking off. Did Armitage find penetrative sex repulsive? The thought hadn't even occurred to him because in Ben's mind penetration was the epicentre of sex that included at least one man.

This was all very confusing to him.

He sat there for a moment, contemplating this new bit of information. So, Armitage liked lanky, thin, tall guys that looked more like teenagers than anything else. And he didn't even want to fuck them or be fucked by them. Just... jerk off. He jerked off to those boys jerking off.

He could see his own fantasy of Armitage spreading his legs for him and taking his dick shatter into a million pieces.

At least, he didn't have to roll over for him.

There was a lot of disappointment that he felt at that moment because he was now sure that they would never want the same thing. Ben wasn't Armitage's type at all, and even if he were, there would be no actual fucking happening. Sure, he would be happy to jerk off in front of Armitage and he would die to get to touch his dick, but still.

He wanted to fuck that man so much.

Closing his eyes and sighing, he decided to shake all of these thoughts off. This wasn't what he had been looking for.

It was hard to close that folder and get back to what he was actually trying to accomplish since his brain decided to latch unto _Armitage likes watching thin teen boys jerking off_.

Interestingly enough, a lot of the other folders were actually blocked. Those were probably filled with _Sternweiler_ stuff that was top-secret. The man had strange priorities, that much was obvious. He didn't learn much at all from looking through the entire cube except for what he already knew: Armitage liked weapons, vehicles, non-fictional literature, architecture and... Information on Jedis. Lots of information on Jedis. He possessed every bit of public information on the Old Jedi Order that he could think of and some scriptures that must have been from Luke because those were – to his knowledge – classified. He even had a blueprint on how to build a lightsaber, paired with a map with the few remaining places where Kyber crystals could be harvested.

It was confusing and touching to see how much time Armitage had put into learning all of those things – But given that he didn't really want or like Ben, it could be possible that he just wanted to know all of those things for the sake of knowing those things. After all, he had read a book on how to care for an Alderaanian wolf-cat just a few days ago and he certainly wasn't-

Ben was an idiot.

Closing the holocube, he felt like running into a wall. He had invaded Armitage's privacy for nothing.

“Where are you going, son?” Han asked when he saw Ben approaching one of their shuttles the day before the ball.

“Aldera.”

“The capital?”

“Is there any other Aldera?”

Han rolled his eyes _hard_.

“You hate big cities,” he stated and Ben grunted in agreement. He really did. Always had. Being surrounded by masses of people was just exhausting to him. “So what's that trip about?”

“I'm getting Armitage a Starblossom present,” he told him because kriff it. Might as well tell him.

The corners of his father's mouth lifted at that and soon enough he was grinning at his son as if he had just been told the funniest of news.

“Care to share what it is?”

Ben sighed.

“An Alderaanian wolf-cat,” he confessed, opening the shuttle doors and stomping in with Han immediately following after him.

“A _what_?”

“You heard me.”

“Did he say that he wanted one?”

“No. But he read a book on how to take care of one.” And he was lonely. But he didn't need to say that out loud. “Plus, they're intelligent and trainable. He would probably appreciate that.”

“He would, wouldn't he?” Han grumbled, still looking at Ben as if he had grown a second head. “Come to think of it, he did say he used to want a pet when he was a kid. So that might actually be a good idea.”

Ben grunted again as he took a seat in the pilot's chair.

“I'm in a hurry,” Ben told his father without looking at him, activating the piloting board. “So you either leave now or you're coming with me.”  
There was a beat of silence before Han said the one thing that he had not expected to hear from him: “If you don't mind the company?”

“No,” Ben said, slowly and a little bit in shock. “I don't mind.”  
  


It took them almost five hours until Ben finally found what he had been looking for.

“A little bit on the nose, isn't it?” Han commented when they left the animal sanctuary with a tiny female wolf-cat sitting in a grey pet carrier.

A ginger wolf-kitten with big greenish-blue eyes.

Ben ignored him.

Armitage hadn't slept all night as far as he could tell and during breakfast, he barely touched any food at all. Leia and Han kindly decided to ignore the man while Ben – for once – struggled to do the same. Everything in him screamed to soothe his husband's pain but he knew that there was nothing that he could do that would be accepted. The only thing left for him to do was hope that he would like the kitten he had gotten him.

Sometime around noon, Armitage's tall blonde friend arrived and to everyone's relief, her presence alone seemed to help immensely. His parents took that as a cue to leave the trio alone after their customary greetings and soon enough, it was just him, his husband and the giantess. Seconds in, Ben noticed her throwing daggers at him with her eyes the entire time which did make him wonder what Armitage had told her about him throughout their short marriage.

Nothing good, probably.

“How's my ship, General Phasma?” Armitage asked her when they made their way back into the palace, fully dressed in his uniform plus greatcoat and cap, to which Phasma seemed to now own the exact duplicate. She looked striking in it, though, in a distinctly masculine way. She wasn't beautiful by any means but she was... handsome. If one could use that word in that context.

“She's running smoothly, General Hux,” she answered with an air of good-naturedness that seemed extremely odd coming from her lips. “I have to admit that you made command seem a lot easier than it actually is, though.”

There was a quiet chuckle coming from his husband and Ben almost tripped at the sound of it – He had never heard him laugh before. Not really, at least, and certainly not while he was basically walking right next to him.

It was only then that he noticed the name.

“Organa-Solo,” he corrected with furrowed brows and both sets of eyes turned towards him. “He's General Organa-Solo now.”

Armitage's lips twitched, however, it was impossible to tell if he had been suppressing a smile or a sneer – Who was he kidding, it must have been a sneer. - and Phasma openly wrinkled her nose with something like anger burning in her eyes.

“Maybe on paper,” she snorted. “To me and the crew of the _Sternweiler_ , he's General Hux.” At that, she turned away from Ben, signalling to him that his part of the conversation was over. “Speaking of which, I think Mitaka is still not over your departure.”

“He's always been a loyal soul,” Armitage said, his voice heavy with such melancholy and longing that it made Ben's limbs feel numb. “A little too jumpy and weak-willed, but loyal.”

“That he certainly is but I have to say that I wasn't sure if it was simply his nature or attributed to his crush on you.”

Ben tensed, especially at Armitage's chuckle.

“Oh, well,” he shrugged, lifting his chin a little bit as if proud of being desired by that _Mitaka_ -guy. “I may or may not have encouraged him a little bit. It certainly made him more productive.”

His hands curled into fists and he could feel the force around him vibrate with jealousy when he imagined his husband flirting with this faceless man – Jumpy and weak-willed? Is that what Armitage liked in a man? Was he tall, dark-haired and lanky, too? Without a second thought, he invaded Phasma's mind and it was laughably easy to find this Mitaka since he was the topic of their discussion.

He _was_ tall, dark-haired and lanky.

Ben's heart dropped to his boots.

“You can be really cruel sometimes,” Phasma said, clearly amused and without even a hint of disapproval despite her words.

“Wouldn't I know,” Ben grumbled and pointedly didn't return both their stares as he brushed past them, his robes fluttering behind him as he rounded the corner to get to the garden.

He had a date with a tree.

It wasn't until the actual ball that the Huxes eventually arrived.

Ben wore his wedding robes because they were the fanciest clothes he owned while Armitage remained in his old General uniform. They didn't match even the tiniest bit and his husband looked even more out of place when standing next to his mother in her beautiful white gown, as was Alderaanian custom, and his father in his grey suit in which he looked exceedingly uncomfortable as always.

They were all standing there like some underpaid welcoming committee, greeting all of the arriving guests and engaging in horrible small talk that made him want to stab himself repeatedly in the chest. Especially when people congratulated him and Armitage on their wonderful union as if it hadn't already been months since their wedding – Though, it was worse when they _asked_ about their relationship.

“How is married life treating you both?” Senator Nileq inquired with a polite smile, his wife looking at them as if they were the most adorable thing she had ever seen.

Armitage, being the fantastic actor that he was, smiled at them and dug his head shyly, before lying smoothly: “Very well, thank you. My husband and I are very happy.”

Ben could barely force himself to lift the corners of his mouth but it seemed to be enough to convince the gullible pair of how very much in love they were.

“Oh, aren't you two just lovely? Such a handsome pair,” the wife cooed, fluttering her lashes in delight. “You're positively glowing, Prince Hux!”

“Organa-Solo”, Ben corrected once again before biting his tongue. Armitage looked at him for a moment before nodding and repeating after him: “It is Organa-Solo now.”

Senator Nileq and his wife laughed at that.

It took another twenty minutes until everyone's nightmare walked in: Emperor Brendol Hux, his wife Maratelle and their dreadful spawn.

Armitage blanched and stiffened immediately, crossing his arms behind his back to hide just how fidgety his hands had become. The blue of his eyes seemed dull as if he had drawn a curtain inside his head, and his mind barrier expanded, shifting the force around him in the process. Without meaning to, Ben stepped a little closer, the urge to protect his husband from his family almost unbearable. It was a testament to how afraid Armitage seemed to be that he let him invade his personal bubble without as much as a blink.

Queen Leia greeted the Emperor while Han only fake-smiled at them, raising his glass of wine that he chucked immediately once they turned away from him to approach Ben and his husband.

“Armitage,” Emperor Hux said with the coldest and harshest of voices and Ben felt reminded of the day they first met when he saw Armitage straighten, standing in attention like a soldier before his superior.

“Emperor,” he greeted, lowering his head in something like a bow. “Empress.” The woman held out her hand and he immediately took it to brush his lips against her knuckles, just like he had done with Ben 9 years ago. The memory tasted even bitterer now. When his siblings stepped forward, his face hardened and he simply nodded at them. “Brendol and Vivienne. It is a pleasure to see you.”

“Hardly a pleasure,” Brendol snorted disdainfully, letting his gaze rake over the black uniform that Armitage wore with pride. “You're still wearing that old thing? I would have thought you'd be wearing white by now. Isn't it tradition for a princess to wear white in Alderaan?”

Vivienne laughed at that, half-heartedly hiding her mouth behind her gloved hand while her blond brother grinned, obviously pleased with himself. Ben wanted to murder them and it must have been noticeable because they quickly schooled their features when their eyes wandered to Ben.

The Emperor offered him his hand.

“Prince Ben Organa-Solo. It has been a while,” he said, amicably enough, looking him straight in the eye. “I hope you have been well.”  
Begrudgingly, he took the offered hand since his mother would skin him alive if he insulted the man in public by refusing him.

“Emperor Hux,” he grumbled, tightening his grip a bit but not enough to hurt. “It has. And yes, I am quite well.”

He was also forced to kiss Maratelle Hux's hand, shake Brendol's and again kiss Vivienne's' delicate knuckles. It took him all of his will power not to bite her when she chuckled: “I hope our half-brother hasn't given you too much grief. We all know how he is.”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he declared a little too loud, drawing attention to himself and the conversation at hand on purpose. “I have never been happier.”

“Oh, really?” she said, grinning and exposing the sharp edges of her white teeth as she grabbed his hand when he let her go. “Where is your ring then?”

His feet went ice-cold.

The ring.

He had completely forgotten about the ring. How didn't he notice that it was missing? Their fight had been so long ago and he had never thought about looking for the ring he had thrown away in his fury. Well, he did hate the thing but it was completely inappropriate to not wear it in public. Why had he foregone to wear gloves today?

 _Kriff_.

Throwing a glance at Armitage, he was relieved to see that the man's hands were covered, hiding his own ring from sight.

“My mother chose those rings and neither of us liked them,” he half-lied. “So we decided to get rid of them and replace them ourselves. Since I want his ring to incorporate a Kyber crystal, it will have to wait until I can afford the time for such a trip.”

Eyebrows rose but both he and Armitage just stared, their faces hard as stone, challenging them to question the validity of his words. As expected, they didn't dare to and Vivienne finally let go of Ben's hand with a strange expression on her face as she let her gaze sweep over Ben's form from his shoes up to his face.

“How romantic,” she finally said, clearly unhappy about not being able to laugh at her half-brother's misery.

Brendol snorted and the Emperor sneered a bit.  
“Indeed, how very noble of you, Prince Ben,” he agreed with as much insincerity as his daughter. “Please, excuse us.”

Once they were gone, Ben immediately took Armitage by the arm and led him away to save both of themselves from any other greetings. The man was extremely pale and obviously rattled enough to let himself be dragged to the other end of the room where Ben immediately ordered him a drink.

“Alderaanian brandy, coming right up,” the barkeeper told him and quickly filled him a glass. Armitage took it once it was offered to him but didn't really do anything after that.

Should he touch him? Pat him on the back maybe? No, Armitage wasn't a dog for kriff's sake. Hugging him was out of the question, too. Should he say something? But what? How does one comfort their estranged husband?

“There you are,” Phasma said once she reached them and she immediately laid her hand on Armitage's shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

Ben wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or envious that this woman could just touch him and ask him about his well-being without even a hint of hesitation.

“I think I need some air,” Armitage whispered, his blue eyes directed at nothing at all, and Phasma instantly directed him towards the nearest balcony. When Ben made a move to follow them, both of them threw him a _look_. He didn't need to read their minds to hear the ' _Away from you_ ' they were thinking.

Ben watched them go, deflating like a balloon.

What a useless husband he was.

Ordering himself a drink, he decided to stay at the very corner of the bar, hoping that people wouldn't notice him despite his ridiculous height and width. It worked for a while and after the fourth brandy, he was almost convinced that he managed to make himself invisible enough to survive the entire ball until the gift-exchanges without any disturbances.

He was wrong.

“Where is Armitage?” Vivienne Hux's voice piped up from somewhere beside him and he almost choked on his drink.

Clearing his throat in a futile attempt to keep his dignity as intact as possible, he answered: “He's with his friend.”

“The giantess?” she snorted. “I always wondered whether those two were involved. But then again, everyone knows that Armitage likes cock.”

Ben couldn't help gaping at the crudeness of her words, especially since Vivienne didn't look like someone who would use such words. Sure, she was a terrible human being and she was cruel in the same way a malicious child would be – But words like ' _cock_ ' sounded extremely wrong coming out of her pouty little mouth. Unfortunately, she wasn't bothered by his shocked silence as she took his brandy to take a sip before adding: “I bet he got really lucky in that department.”

Her gaze was clearly directed at his crotch and he was – not for the first time – very, very glad that he dressed like a monk. Feeling extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed, he creased his face into a frown, snatching his brandy out of her hand.

“What do you want?” he asked with a slight hiss but kept his voice low to not awaken any attention from other guests.

Vivienne smiled at him, sweetly, lowering her lids so that her long lashes were throwing a shadow over the familiar blue of her eyes. She was beautiful like a porcelain doll, especially with her strawberry-blonde curls falling over her exposed shoulder. The sky-blue dress she was wearing accentuated how very tall and slender she was, her figure elegant and feminine despite its lack of womanly curves.

Ben could tell that she had noticed him looking, the second her smile turned sultry and her hips shifted a little to face him completely.

“You're a very handsome man, Ben,” she murmured, leaning into his space. “And something tells me that you know how to appreciate the female body.”

He stiffened, though, not in the way she probably wanted him to.

“I'm married to your brother,” he reminded her, absolutely disgusted at what she was obviously offering.

“Half-brother,” she corrected as if that would make any difference at all and stole his brandy _again_ , downing the entire thing with a single gulp. “And we both know you two aren't happy in the least. It's so very obvious, I'm surprised no one else has picked up on it yet. Do you even fuck?”

“That is none of your business,” he spluttered, angry and embarrassed and also disillusioned about how obviously strained and cold their relationship was. Desperate to escape the situation, he tried to move around her but she put her hand on his chest to keep him in place, suddenly very, very close.

“You could fuck _me_ , you know,” she whispered, her hand just about going to touch his crotch, and Ben almost made her topple over when he pushed her away. “What the hell!”

“ _Touch me_ _ **one more time**_ _and I will_ _ **cut**_ _both of your hands off_.”

Her face paled before turning red and Ben stared her straight in the eye before saying: “You will go back to your parents and you will stay away from both me and Armitage for the rest of the night. If either of us talks to you, you will be perfectly friendly and polite.”

“I will go back to my parents and stay away from both you and Armitage for the rest of the night. If either of you talks to me, I will be perfectly friendly and polite,” she repeated, the blue of her eyes glazed over, before she turned away and disappeared back into the crowd.

Once she was gone, he ordered himself another brandy, trying to ignore the churn of disgust in his stomach as well as the feeling of being _dirty_ somehow.

To think that _this_ was Armitage's family – It made him shudder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would absolutely love to hear all of your theories regarding Armitage's choice of porn and porn actors. It's something that will definitely take up at least an entire chapter in the Armitage POV version of this if I manage to write it haha


	15. Torturous elecricty 'cause I want you so much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gifts are exchanged and drunken mistakes are made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this took me ages 'cause it ended up being 7k long! I was almost tempted to split it again but I didn't want to upload a chapter that only consisted of gift-exchanging lol I don't know how I even managed to write 4k on nothing but people giving each other presents.  
> The really hard part that took me forever was the last 2k, though. If you follow the ridiculous amounts of comments I get (I love you all so much, you're the best <3), you might have a clue what I'm talking about when I say that I struggled with that part because I'm useless when it comes to that particular, er, genre haha Like I'm shit at writing fighting scenes, but this other thing is a whole other level of me failing lol  
> Hope you enjoy nevertheless!
> 
> P.S.: If you haven't learnt already from past chapters, I'll remind you now to get yourself some tissues.

When it was time to exchange gifts, Ben was practically sweating. He had been lucky enough to be able to hide away for most of the evening, alternating between nursing alcoholic beverages and water to keep his head as clear as possible while still feeling pleasantly buzzed. Half an hour ago, Armitage had finally decided to emerge from whatever hole he had disappeared into with General Phasma, just in time for his mother to start delivering her annual speech to her guests and the general public celebrating in their homes. It was a strange feeling to know that all of Alderaan could see him standing awkwardly between his mother and his husband, waiting for the entire thing to just end.

To say that he was nervous would be a gross understatement, especially when he saw several droids carrying boxes into the room – One of them was so ridiculously huge that it had to be wheeled in. Ben wondered who that one was for – Probably Han. He could see Armitage building the man some vehicle or another like the great son(-in-law) and engineer that he was.

One of the smaller boxes was littered with holes. He hoped the wolf-kitten wasn't too scared in there.

“As the Queen and proud mother that I am, I invoke the right to give the first present away,” his mother said with a smile and to his surprise, her gaze landed on him. C-3PO took his cue and waddled to Ben, holding a box in his arms to offer it to him. “This is for you, Ben.”  
Feeling all eyes on him, he was quite embarrassed when he lifted the beautifully decorated lid to reveal whatever his mother had seen fit to gift him. His mouth opened in surprise when he reached in and immediately recognized it.

“Your uncle's pilot helmet, though, a little modified to suit your tastes,” she told him, smiling, but clearly nervous about his reaction as he examined the formerly white-red helmet that had been painted black-blue, the new coating still perfectly glossy.

He could feel his mouth open and close like a stupefied nerf calf, speechless and unexpectedly touched. Never in a million years would he have expected his mother to give him something that would _mean_ anything to him. Ever since he was little, he had wanted to become a pilot – First, to become a smuggler like his father, and later on to be a war hero like his uncle had been during the Galactic War. And now he had his helmet, newly painted, just for him, because even the thought of putting on anything white made him cringe.

Black and blue.

His heart swelled.

“Thank you, mother,” he breathed, far too quiet, but all the more sincere and he threw her a rare smile for all of Alderaan to see despite feeling incredibly insecure about the way his face contorted when he did that. “This is- Thank you. I love it.”  
She smiled back, showing teeth and all, and Ben was reminded of how beautiful his mother actually was. It made her look young – The way he remembered her before he was sent away from his own home. Melancholy took hold of him for all but a second but he shook it off immediately, clutching Luke's helmet to his chest and suppressing the urge to put it on like a child playing dress-up.

The next present went to his father – Some collection of what looked like trash but Han insisted was very valuable, thank you very much, kid – and then it was Armitage's turn to open the Queen's present for him. It was a very small box and his face didn't betray any sort of emotion when he pulled the ribbon loose and removed the lid. If Ben hadn't been standing right next to him, he would have missed it – The barely audible gasp that sounded just a little bit choked. His lips parted a little bit as he lifted a necklace, not unlike the one the Emperor had ripped from his neck on their wedding day. Instead of the Arkanian emblem made of silver, it was the Crest of Alderaan, a golden upside-down triangle made of interlacing curves.

“You are one of us now,” she told him and for a second his red lips twitched up into a smile. “Ben, would you do us the honour to put it on him?”

For a second, he let his surprise show openly before quickly schooling his features and turning to his husband – whose face was unreadable as ever. He hoped that his forced involvement in this wasn't ruining the moment for him when he took the necklace by its long and delicate chain to carefully do as he was told.

Armitage's chest puffed up the slightest bit when the pendant settled on it and Ben couldn't help but smile a bit at how obviously proud and happy the man was despite his lack of distinct facial expressions. Their eyes met and they quickly turned away from each other, reclaiming their earlier positions.

“Alright, my turn,” Han proclaimed and there was a collective chuckle in the room when the Queen opened her present and gave his husband _the look_ as she held a blaster pistol in her hand. “What? I thought we wanted to do nostalgic presents this year. I fell for you the second you shot those stormtroopers when-”

“Thank you, honey,” she interrupted him and patted his cheek, eliciting another round of chuckles from their guests.

Armitage was next and he, again, visibly forced himself not to smile openly when he opened his present to find the biggest tool box Ben had ever seen in his life. Apparently, he had been complaining about Han's collection of _old, rusty screwdrivers_ for years now, so he decided to finally give in and let the man have _his own_ _k****ing wrenches_ (“Han, this is live!).

When it was Ben's turn, he didn't even bother hiding his surprise at the biggest box wheeling in his direction and coming to a halt right before him. For a moment, he wasn't quite sure how to even open the thing, so Armitage took it upon himself to press a button that he hadn't even noticed which made its walls retract on their own.

It was the pod racer.

 _The_ pod racer.

His jaw dropped and there was excitement exploding inside his body as well as an almost dizzying amount of confusion. Because this wasn't Han's doing, was it? Maybe, he actually built the thing, but its design was Armitage's. He had seen the blue prints with all of its inner workings and the weapons. This thing was as sophisticated as a pod racer could be and Han certainly wasn't clever enough to come up with any of that by himself. He did well with repairing stuff, not creating from scratch.

“You always wanted to become the second human winner in a pod race,” Han said but Ben barely listened. “Thought, I might help in giving you a shot.”  
He was waiting for Armitage to pipe up and tell him that this was a joint present, but it never happened. In fact, his husband barely looked at him when Ben turned to him. His beautiful face was perfectly relaxed and unbothered – it even appeared a bit bored.

Ben didn't understand what the kriff was going on.

“Thank you, dad,” he finally said, weakly, and he couldn't help but beam when he reached out to touch the glossy black surface of the deadliest vehicle he had ever seen in his life. If only, he could climb unto it for a nice trip this very second. It shouldn't matter who it was from.

But it did.

When he looked at his husband again, still smiling, the man frowned and quickly looked away. Ben didn't know what to think or feel about any of this.

Once the pod racer was wheeled away, he realised that it was his turn.

Clearing his throat a bit, he nervously looked at his mother. “I'm afraid my present isn't much compared to the other ones,” he warned, shuffling his feet shyly as he signaled to the droid holding his mother's present to give it to her. “And it's not complete either.”  
She smiled at him, obviously curious before opening her present. For a second, she just stared at it and Ben felt a droplet of sweat running along his temple, though, he hoped that it was hidden by his hair. Then, her eyes lit up when she took it in hand.

“You mentioned that yours broke a few years ago and you hadn't replaced it yet,” he explained quickly when she lifted the white, slim lightsaber hilt, testing its weight. “You said your Kyber crystal is still intact, so I can help you building it in if you want me to.”

“I would love you to, Ben,” she told him and completely broke character when she suddenly hugged him. Her face didn't even quite reach his chest, so he wasn't sure where to put his hands to return the hug. Sadly, it was over before he decided what to do with his arms, but her smile remained. “Thank you, darling.”

Her small hand reached for his face and he bent down a bit to make it easier for her to touch his cheek, gently tracing his scar with her thumb. Her dark, round eyes looked up at him with affection and gratitude and Ben couldn't help giving her a small, vulnerable smile. Despite all the bitterness still lingering in his heart, he could feel his knees go a bit weak at how incredibly loved and cherished he felt that very moment. Luke always told him that his sister struggled in her role as a mother but that it didn't mean her love for him was any lesser because of it.

For the first time in his life, he actually believed that.

When she withdrew, he motioned for the next droid to give his father his present. “I picked that up during one of my missions,” he told him when Han eagerly opened it, only to look a bit confused at what exactly he was looking at. “It's a Nevuli energy stone. They call it _Aricchoc_. It can harness obscene amounts of energy, so they're often used as back-up power stations for ships in case of an engine failure. I'm sure you and Armitage can figure out how to install it.”

To his relief, his father looked increasingly excited about it and he could have sworn that he would have gone for a hug as well if it wasn't for his mother standing between them. The small boy in his head lamented that fact greatly and Ben was positively disturbed at how affection-starved he seemed to be. He hadn't realised that, not consciously at least, until his mother had lain her arms around his waist and looked at him with such adoring eyes.

“That's a fantastic gift, kid,” Han told him, chuckling and it was obvious from his far-away-gaze that he was already thinking about where to integrate it. He had a lot of favoured vehicles these days, though, none would ever come close to the Millennium Falcon.

It was time for Armitage's present. Turning towards his husband, he couldn't help fidgeting a bit, unable to look him in the eyes lest he stuttered when he spoke up again: “I wasn't sure what to get you, but... you were reading about it about a week ago and I figured, you might want one.”  
Red eyebrows drew together in confusion and then they went up once the droid with the hole-littered box came to a halt before him.

“Be careful, though,” Ben warned him when those pale, elegant fingers started to lift the lid. “It might be a bit scared.”  
Armitage froze the second he looked in.

The guests were craning their necks a bit, curious about what it was that his husband was staring at, unblinking, devoid of any reaction. When the smallest of _meow_ s left the box and Armitage finally reached in to gather an extremely fluffy ginger wolf-cat into his arms, there was a collective _Awww_ resounding throughout the ball room.

The wolf-kitten was somewhat small for its species – a runt, most probably – but it was still big enough to be able to reach up, sniff at the pale, long neck with its paws buried in the black fabric of the Arkanian uniform and then give the man's jaw a lick. Immediately, all tension seemed to seep out of Armitage's body and for the first time ever since knowing him, Ben saw his face looking actually _soft_. His blue eyes were glued to the wolf-kitten's green ones and when she licked him again – on the chin this time – there was the tiniest of smiles grazing his red, red lips. He was so beautiful, Ben's heart ached with longing and happiness over having caused such a reaction.

“What-” he started but stopped, his usually cold and clipped voice sounding a bit shaky. “What is it? A boy?”

Ben shook his head but since he wasn't being looked at, he answered vocally, too: “No, it's a girl. Quite rare for a ginger one, I was told.”

Armitage hummed, rocking a bit as if he was holding a baby – And suddenly, Ben's mind provided him with just that image. His husband, holding a child, pale with big blue eyes and red curls. His gaze would be just as soft, just as tender, and even more loving than it was now as he hummed an Arkanian lullaby, looking at the product of both their genes combined. Ben had always thought the artificial creation of a human to be unnatural and repulsing, but in this very instant, he didn't mind at all. He wondered what their child would look like – If it would have Armitage's delicate, sharp features or if it would suffer from Ben's facial asymmetry and disproportion. Could it even be ginger? Ben certainly didn't have the genes for it and he thought he remembered reading somewhere that both parties needed to have that particular feature somewhere in their DNA. Black or brown hair would be more probable then, as well as dark eyes. It was a pity in a way, but Dream-Armitage wouldn't mind at all. No, he would still look upon their child with the utmost affection, tell them that they were beautiful and perfect just as they were. And if his husband didn't care, Ben wouldn't either. He didn't think about gender. It wasn't important. Because that child would be _theirs_ , no matter it's sex or colouring.

“Does she have a name?” Armitage asked him, disrupting the fantasy he had lost himself in. It took him a moment to come back to the present and he cleared his throat again.

“No, not yet,” he answered, licking his lower lip. “Her name is for you to decide.”  
Another hum, pleased and affectionate, and there was that little smile again when he scratched the wolf-kitten behind one of her big ears, making her purr loudly.

“Millicent,” he finally said as the fluffy ginger head nuzzled against his neck, paws kneading the stiff fabric of the man's uniform jacket. “Her name is Millicent.”

“Millicent it is,” Ben confirmed then and only noticed that he was smiling as well when their gazes met. There was a beat of silence, an unfamiliar warmth blossoming between the two of them, Armitage's aura a little more open than usual, soft and peaceful. It reminded him of how they had almost gotten along that one evening when Ben had told him to keep his favourite book. It felt like hope.

“I hate to part you from her so quickly but it would be better to have her put in a more quiet room,” his mother interjected and Ben couldn't help but smile a bit wider when he saw his husband tighten his hold on Millicent a little bit. Then, he sighed and complied, putting her back in her box with unmistakable regret and sadness. His dim aura remained mostly warm, though. Happy.

Once, she was taken away, Armitage straightened his back a bit, his face back to its natural state: Unreadable and controlled.

Armitage's present for his mother-in-law was a chessboard with seven platforms of different sizes – Arkanian and very complicated as he explained – while his father-in-law received a self-made mapping and piloting system that he designed specifically for the Millennium Falcon. When a droid approached Ben, the man's walls went back up abruptly, though, not before he got a whiff of shame and regret emitting from him.

It was a jacket. A piloting jacket made out of black leather with some blue adornments here and there. Obviously, it was meant to complement both the helmet and the pod racer but Ben already felt weird at the mere thought of putting it on. He hadn't worn anything other than robes ever since he was first introduced to the temple, after all.

And something just didn't feel right. It didn't seem like something Armitage would pick as a present for anyone, not even his estranged husband. The man wore nothing but uniforms, it was extremely unlikely that clothing would have been the thing crossing his mind at the prospect of making a gift for anybody.

It wasn't until Armitage piped up with a tense “ _Well_?” that he noticed that he had only been staring at the jacket in his hands without any sort of reaction.

“Thank you,” he said but it didn't sound sincere at all, making the situation even more awkward than it already was. Red blotches appeared on the ivory skin of Armitage's neck and Ben quickly realised that if he didn't do something, this entire situation would look really bad.

_We both know you two aren't happy in the least. It's so very obvious, I'm surprised no one else has picked up on it yet_.

Determined to salvage whatever he still could, he opened the belt on his waist with one hand. The rattling sound made Armitage look at him again in confusion – An expression that only intensified when Ben told him to hold the jacket for him and then proceeded to open his robe, shrugging out of it to leave him in nothing but his tight pants and equally form-fitting black long-sleeved undershirt. Both the belt and the heavy robe fell to the floor with a thump.

“Thanks,” he said when he reclaimed the jacket and swiftly put it on. It fit like a glove.

Armitage was staring at him, his gaze sweeping over his husband's body before he mumbled something that may or may not have been: “You look good in it.”

“I'm not used to anything that isn't a robe,” he confessed as he tugged at the jacket, feeling a bit uncomfortable since it was a lot shorter than anything he was accustomed to, what with it ending just a bit underneath the waistband of his black pants. Ben felt practically naked. “But I like it.”

It wasn't a lie. A jacket like this was exactly what he would have wanted to wear if he had never gone to the temple and had grown up to be a pilot like he had wanted to.

Armitage nodded and Ben wasn't sure whether he was expected to be affectionate towards him. His husband hadn't hugged or kissed him either for giving him the wolf-kitten, but it felt wrong to just leave it at that. To his relief, there was no flinch or anything when he leaned in to press a kiss to Armitage's temple, his hand hovering somewhere at his back to make it look like he was touching him.

“Thank you,” he repeated, more sincere this time, and when they looked at each other, they both smiled a bit, though, it felt a lot more forced than it had just minutes before.

The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur. A lot of people went to talk to Ben, mostly to tell him how stunning he looked in that jacket which was both confusing and embarrassing to him. It reminded him of when Finn had told him that he was _tall_ , _dark_ and _handsome_ and he wondered what he would say to him now if he could see him. Not for the first time did he lament that this was a political event to which neither he nor that kriffer Poe had been invited to due to their lack of _status_.

A few women giggled at him and he could feel Vivienne Hux's eyes on him, too. The thought of her and her disgusting offer made him shiver and he was thankful of the fact that he was so good at mind tricks since she didn't approach him once.

Armitage was gone again since the broadcasting part of the evening was over and a few people were already leaving, thanking his mother for the invitation and the wonderful evening on their way out. The ones that stayed did so mostly for the drinks – And Ben decided that, kriff it, he was going to indulge for once now that he didn't have to keep himself sober for representative purposes.

There was a lot of brandy and ale entering his system and even a few glasses of Alderaan Ruge Liquor even though Ben didn't particularly care for the taste. It did make him feel wonderfully light-footed, however, and he didn't even mind when a young, pretty senator flirted with him despite his lack of interest in her. The alcohol had put him in a good enough mood that he simply enjoyed the small ego boost of having people tell him that he was attractive.

It made him feel a tiny bit better about himself.

“Your husband seems a bit tipsy,” the senator chuckled and Ben followed her gaze, seeing General Phasma trying to steady a stumbling Armitage. “You should probably take him to bed.”  
At that, she winked and he couldn't help but laugh. If he was a bit more sober, he might have asked her to repeat her name, so he could contact her at some other point. She was funny and her flirty comments were absolutely harmless and felt more like good-natured banter than actual attempts at seduction. Ben would like being friends with her. Probably. Maybe. He wasn't sure. Drunk Ben wasn't the best judge of character, though, Rey had always insisted that alcohol simply made him more approachable and open for conversation with people that weren't her and Luke.

“I should,” he agreed, emptying his glass of liquor and placing it on the bar counter. “Good night, then.”

“Good night, Prince Ben. It was a pleasure.”

Thankfully, walking posed no problem for Drunk Ben, in fact, he felt like it was a lot easier to do when feeling a bit buzzed. His weight didn't feel as heavy that way and he remembered Rey being in awe of how alcohol actually made him a bit graceful when his gait was usually a lot closer to stomping than anything else.

Armitage, on the other hand, was either so out of it that he was barely awake or his drunken alter-ego was simply adorably clumsy because it seemed like he could barely make a step without leaning his entire weight on his giant friend - who frowned the second she saw him approaching but Ben was in such a good mood that he couldn't find it in himself to mind.

“I'll take him to bed,” he informed her and already made a move to grab him but she twisted to get Armitage out of his reach.

“I'm taking care of it.”

“He's my husband,” he protested, feeling a bit miffed now. “I wanna take him to bed.”

When she didn't relent, he planted his feet and looked her in the eyes. The woman wasn't weak-willed but she had no mind barriers at all and Ben was extremely talented when it came to fucking with people's heads, so all he had to do was dive a bit into her head and tell her to hand him over.

“I'm taking him to bed now,” he said, firmly. “So you will hand him over and let me do that.”

She blinked.

“You are taking him to bed now, so I will hand him over and let you do that.”

There was a pained expression on her face and she seemed to hesitate a bit – A testament to her loyalty and protectiveness towards Armitage. Ben respected her greatly for it, but was also relieved when she did what she was told.

It felt wonderful to sling an arm around the man's slender torso, feeling his weight and heat leaning against his body. Red hair tickled his face when Ben manhandled him until he had his husband's arm thrown over his shoulders, so he could better lead him out of the room. The stumbling was a bit annoying, though.

The second, they left the ball room, Ben reached down to hook his arm underneath the back of Armitage's knees so he could lift him up bridal-style. There was a grunt but no actual protest coming from the man and he marvelled at how very light he was despite his considerable height. His head lolled to the side, resting against Ben's chest and he couldn't help smiling like the besotted idiot that he was because this was the closest that they had ever been since their forced wedding kiss.

The walk to their room was far too short and he already lamented the fact that he had to put him down at some point as he struggled to open the door. Impatient, he just pushed it open with the force and kicked it closed with his foot once he was inside. He was a little sad when he rounded the bed to get to Armitage's side and carefully placed the limp body on the mattress. It didn't even take a second for him to miss the closeness, the heat and weight of his body.

Looking at his husband's sleepy-but-not-quite-asleep face, he debated whether or not he should get him out of a few of his many layers. Even drunk, he realised that Armitage wouldn't want him to undress him, but on the other hand, he doubted that his uniform was all that comfortable.

He could at least help him with the boots, he decided.

Grabbing one of those long legs and lifting it, he moved to kneel between them, so he could comfortably place the man's foot to rest on his left thigh, giving him better access to it. The black leather felt smooth underneath Ben's palm as he felt for the thin slit that would reveal the hidden zip. When he found it, he took a shaky breath before opening it ever so slowly. He remembered watching Armitage do that a lifetime ago – The only time he had ever undressed in front of Ben. It had been the sexiest thing that he had ever witnessed and he couldn't help but get aroused once again as he watched the leather part, revealing the dark fabric of his pants that all but clung to Armitage's long, lithe lower legs.

When the zip was completely open, he wiggled the boot a bit to free the foot within before carelessly dumping it somewhere next to the bed. There was no more skin to look at than before, but somehow the mere outline of Armitage's toes through the cotton of his socks made him look utterly vulnerable. Bare without being nude.

Tenderly, he put the man's foot back on the mattress beside Ben's knee, before taking the other one to place it on top of his right thigh, repeating the entire process. By the time, the second boot joined the first on the floor, his cock was rock hard and he couldn't help but run his hand down Armitage's shin, admiring it's length, before cradling his slender foot in his hands to gently put it back on the bed. For a moment, he just sat there, fully dressed and unwilling to move away from the gap between those legs. When he finally looked up, he was met with blue eyes.

Armitage was awake. And looking at him.

It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room from one second to the other and Ben froze, staring at his husband who looked...

No. No, it wasn't possible. There was no way that he was... affected.

When his eyes wandered from Armitage's beautiful and unusually relaxed face to his crotch, he felt his own dick twitch at seeing a _bulge_. Aroused. His husband was aroused. He was just as hard as Ben himself was. The thought was enough to make him moan, the sound making those blue irises even thinner, consumed by the black of his pupils. With his heart hammering inside his chest, he watched Armitage lift his hands to his own collar, trying to open his uniform jacket but failing miserably. The frown on his face as he tried to look down at himself was positively adorable and Ben huffed a tiny laugh before scooting closer.

“Let me,” he breathed and to his surprise, those pale slender hands immediately went limp, allowing him to grab his wrists and place them back on the mattress. His palms were sweaty from nerves, fingers feeling jittery as he unhooked all of the tiny clasps holding the stiff jacket together and opened the belt once he reached it. It wasn't until then that he noticed how similar to a corset the Arkanian uniform jacket was, what with all those clasps (though perfectly placed to remain hidden and not disrupt the black planes of fabric) and the thick, hard material.

No wonder his gait was so stiff all the time.

Beneath the jacket, Armitage wore the same standard black undershirt as Ben did. There was a hint of sweat and cedarwood and it took him all of his willpower to not bend down to sniff at his skin, though, he was dying to know what all of this smooth ivory smelled like, as well as those beautiful red strands of hair that he had yet to see completely loose. He pondered on how strange it was to not know these things about someone he spent every single night sharing the same bed with.

“I need you to sit up,” he whispered but, unsurprisingly, Armitage remained lying there, looking at him and... was he breathing a bit shallower? Was he? Swallowing, he let his hands glide underneath his jacket, between his back and the bed, so he could pull him into a sitting position, his palms resting on Armitage's shoulder blades. Like before, his head lolled forward, against the column of Ben's throat, and he couldn't help breathing in the scent of that fiery hair.

He smelled wonderful.

Breathing heavier himself, he carefully tugged at the black fabric, letting it slide from his shoulders and arms before dumping it on the floor with the boots. Once Armitage's arms were free, he immediately put them around Ben's neck, effectively hugging him – It was so unexpected and yet endearing that it made him positively giddy. They were so close. Warm breath caressed his neck, ginger hair tickled his cheek and the weight of those arms on his shoulders as well as those thighs resting on Ben's made his cock stir within the confines of his pants.

Slowly, he tipped forward to let the man sink back into the mattress, expecting him to let go once his back safely went to rest on their sheets. He didn't. Instead, he hugged Ben even closer and pulled his legs in, bracketing his hips with those slender but strong thighs. If he wanted to, he could lower his groin to-

Sucking in air with a hiss, he tried to put a little distance between them by raising his upper body in an attempt to sit up. For a moment it seemed like his husband would comply when the grip around his neck loosened and Ben went to remove himself from the embrace. That was when two hands buried themselves in his hair, pulling him down-

“ _Ben_.”

It was all the warning he got before their faces crashed into each other, wet lips smacking somewhere underneath the corner of his mouth in a clumsy attempt to kiss him. Armitage seemed to have noticed his miscalculation and started to drag his lips upwards, moaning when he finally found his target. The sound went straight to Ben's cock and without thinking about what the actual hell was happening, he angled his head to the side to keep their noses from bumping against each other, his mouth opening on pure instinct.

It didn't taste or feel like their wedding kiss at all – There was only alcohol and instead of Armitage's soft lips remaining motionless, it was Ben who could barely keep up with the onslaught of movement, especially, when there was a tongue diving into him, looking for its counterpart. The pressure was almost brutal and he had a hard time trying to reign Armitage in as he seemed hell-bent on swallowing him whole. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced – Wet, clumsy, on the verge of being painful.

He has never been more turned on in his entire life.

It felt like a dream, bizarre and impossibly perfect, when he felt long, gorgeous legs pulling him down by the hip, forcing their groins together and eliciting moans from both of them. They were both hard and Ben wouldn't have been able to stop himself from grinding against him even if he had wanted to – Which he didn't. In fact, he never wanted to do anything else for the rest of his life.

The friction was hot and rough, their clothes still in the way but too much of a hassle to get rid of just yet. He could feel the juts of Armitage's hipbones with every move and it was slightly uncomfortable but Ben couldn't have cared any less. No, he was going to enjoy every second of their desperate rutting, already worried about the moment his husband will come to his senses.

Hands were clutching strands of his hair until one of them ventured down, clawing at the black leather of the pilot jacket. He wasn't sure whether Armitage was looking for purchase or trying to signal him that he should undress, but he felt too hot underneath all those layers anyway. Breaking their kiss was a challenge since he didn't really want to do it and his husband started to protest non-verbally right away but he managed. Kneeling on the bed, he stared down at Armitage's flushed face with the lowered lids, dilated pupils and red, spit-slick lips.  
He was a vision.

Tearing the jacket of his body, he relished in the heated look he was being given, feeling more confident than he had in months. So many people had told him how handsome he was throughout the entire evening but it was only now that his husband looked at him like he wanted to eat him alive that he let himself believe it. When he pulled his undershirt over his head, leaving him topless, he felt like a kriffing king.

Hands grabbed for him and Ben dove back between those lean thighs, moaning once their mouths met once again and nails raked over the skin of his back, surely leaving red marks in their wake. His dark curls fell over both their faces like a curtain but neither of them seemed to mind as their lips parted and tongues met, sloppy and wet. It should have been unappealing – disgusting even – but it wasn't. No, it was pure heaven to him. Especially when Armitage moaned into his mouth as Ben rolled his hips, letting his cock glide over the bulge in those formerly crisp and perfectly pressed pants.

He needed to get him out of those.

Without any hesitation whatsoever, he reached for Armitage's pants, opening them with trembling hands and to his surprise and utter delight, the man immediately lifted his hips, allowing him to pull the fabric over them. There was a _whine_ once their mouths had to part again and Ben forced himself not to just rip the fabric from his husband's skin, scooting down a bit to undress him as careful but quick as humanly possible. The heap of clothes on the floor got a new addition.

Coppery-golden hair dusted the smooth ivory of Armitage's skin, thin and soft underneath his fingertips as he let his hands glide over slender calves, admiring how they shimmered in the dim light coming in from the window. Armitage had very little body hair and what he had was so delicate it only made him lovelier.

Feeling equally aroused and endeared by him, he ignored the fingers that were pulling at his hair, silently demanding him to come back up for a kiss, in favour of letting his lips glide over the soft, pale skin of Armitage's inner thigh, from right by his knee down to where he could already smell hints of musk and sweat, accumulated from wearing one pair of undershorts for an entire day. The scent was a lot milder than what he was used to from himself but unmistakably male and very different from what he knew from whenever he had pleased Rey with nothing but his mouth. This was all very different and new and so much better than he could have ever imagined it to be – It was intoxicating.

Ben couldn't even remember why they hadn't done this yet and he didn't care either as long as they never ever stopped.

The moan leaving Armitage's lips when he dared to place a gentle bite right underneath the hem of his undershorts, almost made him come undone and he practically pounced on the man, clasping the trim, warm waist and crashing their lips back together.

Their hips immediately started grinding against each other again, stuttering and desperate, as Ben tilted his head and started to kiss and bite his way down to that beautiful long neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and tasting the sheen of sweat on it.

“ _Take me_ -”

Startled, Ben broke away, propping himself up on his elbows, bracketing Armitage's head with his arms.

“What?” he rasped as he blinked, unbelieving of what he had just heard. His cock was pulsing between his legs and he was almost delirious with desire but he needed to be sure that he had not misheard, that Armitage wanted him to-

“Take me,” he repeated, the blue of his eyes barely visible, a drunken haze dulling its gleam. His face was flushed with desire, but his nose was also pink which only happened when one was either cold or extremely intoxicated. Suddenly, Ben felt a little unsure about what was happening but he could still feel his skin prickling with arousal.

“Are you sure?” he asked, nervous but also undeniably eager. “You're... you're pretty drunk.”

When Armitage laughed, it took him completely by surprise, even though it hadn't been much more than a chuckle.

“'course, 'm drunk,” he slurred and it was only then that Ben realised just how wasted he actually was. “I wou'have _never_ said'at oth'wisss.”

Ben sobered up immediately, feeling like someone had just thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over his head.

“What,” he repeated, though it didn't sound like a question this time. Instead, his voice sounded scared. Scared of the implication. Scared of-

“I wouldn'ave done any of'is if I wasn',” Armitage slurred once more, his fingers starting to play with the hem of Ben's waistband. “Com'on- Le's, le's get it ov'r with- Le's do it b'fore I'm sober-”

There was a pained groan when he grabbed the man's wrists and manhandled his hands away from his crotch, his skin feeling hot and cold and too tight for his body as he stared down at his husband. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he realised that he was hurting him right now, that his grip was too tight, but his own distress was louder.

He would have never done this if he was sober.

 _Let's get it over with_.

Stupid, stupid Ben. As if he would have ever wanted him if he was in his right mind. And he had immediately fallen for it, hadn't he?

Pathetic.

His bones felt weak as his body suddenly started to tremble and when he saw a tear land on Armitage's chin, he couldn't hold in the wrecked sob bubbling up inside his chest. His heart convulsed violently inside his chest and his eyes burned as tears clouded his vision, making it impossible for him to see the face of the man who had just stabbed him in the chest with nothing but words. He let go and sat up, wiping his eyes brutally as he tried to stop himself from humiliating himself any further.

When his vision cleared enough to look at Armitage, the man's face looked blank.

His voice was weak and shaky when he met his drunken gaze and whispered: “You are very tired and you will go to sleep.”

The blue of his eyes glazed over even more as he repeated Ben's words, slurring so much they were hardly intelligible, before they closed. His body went limp and a heartbeat later he was breathing deeply, obviously asleep.

Like a sack filled with stones, he collapsed on top of Armitage, letting himself sob and cry against the crook of his pale neck, his body seeking warmth and support, but finding only the former. The pain erupting through his mind and body was almost unbearable and he let himself hug the sleeping man like he would a lover offering comfort. None was offered but he pretended to take nevertheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this (almost) happened. I'm so sorry people. For killing your hopes at smut, for one, and for being so utterly devoid of talent when it comes to writing anything erotic or sexy lol
> 
> P.S.: I did a piss poor job in making it unmistakably obvious that Ben is VERY drunk himself! Drunk Ben isn't the stumbling/slurring kind, he's just very happy, full of wishful thinking, sociable, even more childish and emotional than usual and very, very easy to persuade into doing things. He would have done whatever Armitage wanted from him if the happy bubble hadn't been burst.  
> I tried to make it obvious that his chipper mood indicated drunkenness since it's out of character for him, but here it is haha


	16. There's no place I gotta be, still two steps from where I wanna be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, a trip with the podracer and Harlan Ottekvar is far too short for the role.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the closest to fluff that we have been ever since this fic started haha  
> Enjoy the calm before the storm as long as it lasts people, 'cause soon things will start to happen and it won't be pretty!

When Ben woke up, his head felt like it was being trampled to death by an entire army of Wookies. His eyes were pretty much glued shut and when he tried to turn to his stomach to bury his face in his pillow, he froze.

Because that wasn't a pillow.

It was a chest. Warm, rising and falling, with a heartbeat right underneath his ear.

Sitting up abruptly, lashes feeling uncomfortably sticky, he immediately made eye contact with his husband who looked just as miserable as he felt. His ivory skin looked ashen, his lips were dry and the white of his eyes seemed a bit red which only emphasized the dark shadows underneath them.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, embarrassed that he had actually fallen asleep on Armitage in his drunken crying session. Kriff, he was pathetic.

Armitage didn't seem that bothered which could be attributed to the unmistakable look of utter exhaustion on his face. His voice was a bit rough as he said: “It's alright.”

Very slowly, he was sitting up and simultaneously scooting backward so he could lean against the headboard with his back, limp and obviously still tired. His head turned slightly so he could look at Ben, his face not betraying a single emotion or thought.

“What,” he started and only then, did Ben see a hint of anxiety as well as embarrassment. “exactly happened last night?”

Immediately, his feet went cold.

“You don't remember?” he asked, carefully and also with a little bit of envy. How he wished to not remember a thing. The memory of Armitage's body underneath his own, moaning, kissing him, _rutting_ against him – It was torture. Though nothing trumped the pain of their last conversation. Even thinking about it made him want to either cry again or destroy something.

He must remember something, though, if the uncomfortable look on his face was any indication at all.

“Just bits and pieces,” he confessed, pulling his legs in with a vulnerability that seemed entirely out of character for him. “I kissed you, didn't I?”

His voice sounded strained, as if he had to force himself to ask the question, and Ben really couldn't blame him at all. When he nodded, a little bit of colour seemed to return to his face, though, in blotches that really shouldn't look good at all but somehow did. The man could probably turn green and he would still find him absolutely beautiful.

“You did,” he confirmed verbally, feeling self-conscious and a little bit ridiculous when he noticed that he was still wearing his own boots. He had been so eager to get Armitage out of his last night, he had completely forgotten about himself. “I'm sorry for... letting it get as far as it did.”

At that, the poor man blanched abruptly and Ben couldn't help but wince a bit. He probably could have phrased that better but it was too late now and it wasn't like the implications behind it were completely untrue. They had gone too far and it was completely his fault. Sure, he had been drunker than he could remember being ever since almost falling from a balcony when he was 18, but still. He should have stopped himself. Should have stopped Armitage.

“How far did we go exactly?” he asked with a slight tremor and if the situation wasn't as bad as it was, Ben would have almost considered it cute when he saw him trying to discreetly check whether or not there was something amiss with his underwear.

“Well, there was a lot of kissing,” Ben started, trying to ease him into it instead of just dropping the 'You asked me to fuck you'-bomb on him. “We lost a few layers, as you probably noticed, and then there was a bit of, ah, grinding.”

They cringed in sync at the last word.

“I think I remember,” Armitage said, looking extremely uncomfortable, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards. “I started it, I think.”

Now that Ben thought about it, he had.

“You did,” he confirmed, feeling bad for saying it even though he was only telling the truth. “But I went along with it, so.”

“You were drunk, too?”

“Very.”

“I see.”

There was a pregnant pause in which neither of them managed to look the other in the eye, feeling uncomfortable and ashamed and more than just a little regretful. Really, Ben wished he could travel in time, just to have Phasma take care of her drunken friend so that he could have gone to bed by himself. Or, he could have tried surviving the evening without drinking himself silly – If he had been sober, he might have realised a lot sooner that Armitage was in no state to kiss anybody, least of all him.

When it came down to it, it really was his fault, never mind that it was his husband who had initiated all of it. It had been the alcohol talking and acting, not the man himself and he should have realised that a lot sooner.

“Why did we stop?”

The question took him completely off-guard and he looked up, at Armitage's face, blinking. Should he tell him? The poor man looked like he wanted to bury himself in the garden to not have to face his shame over him kissing and grinding against Ben. If he knew that he had asked – no, _ordered_ – his husband to take him... No, he didn't want him to suffer through that. It was already bad enough that _he_ remembered it. If he could spare Armitage the knowledge, he should.

“You fell asleep,” is what he settled on. It wasn't quite a lie, after all, he _had_ fallen asleep. There was no need to fill in the gap between grinding and sleeping, really. The result was the same: They didn't do _it_.

“Oh.”

There was another moment of silence in which Ben tried very hard not to stare at Armitage running his long, elegant hands over his naked shins, the pretty shimmer of coppery-golden hair on his creamy skin proving utterly distracting. He remembered how fine and soft it had felt and wondered whether the hair between his legs was just as delicate or coarse like Ben's.

Shaking his head, he banished the thought from his head.

He would never get to see it, so there was no use in wondering.

“Does your head hurt?” Armitage asked and Ben looked up, confusion probably written all over his face. “You looked pained for a second.”

“Just a little,” he answered. Not a lie but definitely an understatement. “What about yours? It ought to after how much you drank.”

“More than a little, I'm afraid.”

At that, Ben forced himself to stand up, his booted feet meeting the floor with a heavy thud as he pulled himself upright, the fingers of his left hand clutching the bedpost of their canopy bed. For a second, he felt a little dizzy and nauseous but it subsided quickly and he went on to shuffle into their bathroom. Finding the med box was easy enough, but he struggled to open it for a moment and then he was squinting as he tried to make out what was supposed to help with what.

When he found the shots he needed, he returned to the bedroom where Armitage hadn't moved a bit.

“Just the headache or do you also feel sick?” he asked, coming to a halt next to the bed on his husband's side.

“Both.”

Nodding, Ben put the first shot into the injection pistol.

“That's for the headache,” he explained and was relieved when Armitage tilted his head to the side cooperatively, giving him access to his neck. When the pistol touched his skin, he did flinch a bit, though. “It will sting a little.”

The warning didn't prevent the poor man from breathing in with a pained hiss as the shot was injected into his body. Fortunately, the second one, that was meant to soothe his nausea, went a bit better. Once that was done, Armitage immediately laid a hand over the abused spot on his neck, eyebrows drawn together in discomfort.

“It'll take a few minutes to take effect,” he told him, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Do you need some water?”

“I can get myself a glass.”

“I know.”

He went and got him one anyway and Armitage didn't protest when it was offered to him. There was no thanks, either, but Ben was too hungover to really mind.

It made him feel a bit better to watch him empty the glass and lick his dry underlip. Just hours before that mouth had been spit-slick, soft and red – It was a far better look than what he had going on now. A traitorous part of his brain told him to kiss him again, to give that lower lip a few bites, just to see if he could make them as red as they had been yesterday.

“Are you not going to use some yourself?” Armitage asked after a while, pointing at the empty injection gun. “I thought your head hurt.”

Ben shook his head, mumbling: “It's not that bad. After a little bit of meditation, I will be fine.”

“Does meditation really help with headaches?”

“No, but it will take long enough for my body to do what it needs to do. There's a lot on my mind.”

“I can imagine,” he conceded, the corners of his mouth once again twitching downwards. “I suppose I should apologise for last night.”

“Please don't,” Ben sighed, grimacing a bit because, really, the only one feeling sorry should be him. “We were drunk and no one was harmed. Let's just forget it happened and move on.”

There was an odd expression on Armitage's face but he quickly schooled his features once more, eradicating any sign of... anything. The meds had probably done their job if he was already getting back on robot mode. Ben couldn't deny that he lamented that a bit.

“Very well,” he agreed and slowly stood up as well, frowning when he saw his uniform lying on the floor where Ben had abandoned it the night before, now hopelessly wrinkled. When he bent forward, it wasn't his own clothes that he reached for, though – It was the leather jacket he had gifted him. “You didn't like it much, did you?”

Oh, no, he shouldn't have reacted as poorly as he had. Especially since it was a really nice piece and even though, he hadn't seen himself in it, he must look pretty good in it if the amount of compliments he had gotten was anything to go by. Taking the jacket, he bit his lip.

“I _do_ like it,” he promised with as much sincerity as he could muster. “It is just like I said: Ever since I joined the temple, I haven't worn anything but robes. It's been 12 years. So, I was a bit conflicted when I saw it.”

“I understand,” Armitage told him, though, he didn't quite look Ben in the eye. “It was meant as a practicality. Your robes are made of linen, they don't lend themselves as adequate protection against wind and sand during a pod race.”

“And it matches the helmet,” Ben smiled, now even more confused than before because that sounded like Armitage had actually picked that present for him. But what about the blueprints? Or did Han not get him anything and his son-in-law had come to the rescue? But why would he give him the _impressive_ one?

“It does,” he agreed and started to pick up his own clothes from the floor. “I would suggest another modification, however. On the helmet, I mean.”  
Ben cocked an eyebrow with an interested 'Oh?'.

“It was meant for X-wing pilots which have a windscreen – Something a podracer doesn't allow. As it is, your face is quite bare and susceptible to injuries made by flying objects or even just abrasive sand getting in your lungs. I would replace the visor with a proper face shield.”

“That sounds great, actually,” he said, already feeling excited about the mere prospect of wearing it while flying a podrace. “Can you... can you make it so that my face isn't visible?”

Armitage turned to him, his clothes nestled in his arms, with a slight frown before he asked: “May I inquire as to why?”

“I just,” Ben started and stopped, feeling embarrassed about his own insecurities but wanting to be honest with his husband. “I just don't like my face very much. I would prefer if it wasn't broadcasted all over the Galaxy.”

Armitage's face didn't even do as much as stir at his words, but there was a slow blink before he gave him a curt, little nod.

“I can do that,” he told him and Ben didn't even try to hold in a smile.

“Thank you.”

Armitage didn't even dignify that with an answer as he walked past him to the fresher. Ben didn't mind.

“This thing is _awesome_ ,” Poe proclaimed and for once, Ben had to agree with him. Clad in what he would now call his 'pilot gear' – which consisted of tight black pants, an equally tight and black shirt that also covered his neck up to his jawline, knee-high sturdy boots, gloves, Armitage's leather jacket and the newly modified piloting helmet – he climbed into the seat of his podracer, proud and excited about trying it out. It truly was a beauty with its sleek, sharp design and glossy black coating, the Alderaanian emblem painted on the elegant engines in the same clear blue that adorned his helmet.

Armitage and Finn stood a few feet away, watching Ben as he started the engine, flicking the needed switches to prepare for the take-off. Poe half-climbed unto the podracer to take a look at the piloting panel, whistling at the intricate system that Ben had to read the manual for first. Especially the weapon part. There were a lot of weapons hidden in this thing and he couldn't wait to use every single one of them during an actual race. Wouldn't it be fun to be the only participant alive by the time he crossed the finish line?

“Do you think I could-”

“No.”

“Party pooper.”

Poe didn't seem particularly bothered, though, just a bit disappointed and then impressed again when the engines came to life, white-blue lightening connecting the two, sizzling and menacing but also beautiful thanks to its icy colour that reminded Ben greatly of his lightsaber. Even though, he couldn't know for sure, he liked to think that it had been done on purpose, with his Kyber crystal in mind.

“Get off.”

“I'd love to but Finn doesn't share my exhibitionism kink.”

When Ben turned his head towards Poe, he regretted the fact that his expression was hidden behind the face shield but the man would have probably ignored him throwing daggers at him with his eyes anyway. Fortunately, he finally hopped back down to join the other two who were just watching from somewhat afar. Finn was smiling and giving him the thumbs-up while Armitage sported his _engineering face_ that he knew all too well from whenever he was working on some ship design or another or reading a book on the topic. As much as he would like to pretend that his husband wanted to see him fly for Ben's sake, he knew that he probably only wanted to see his creation in action.

Because he had built the thing, he was convinced of it. There was no way that this was Han's doing – or someone else's for that matter. It had Armitage's signature written all over it with its sophisticated and menacing look, complex and yet intuitive piloting system and deadly weaponry.

Or maybe, he just wanted to believe that his husband had spent weeks or maybe even months working on something meant for _him_.

Saluting to the onlookers, he finally took off, beaming behind his face shield as he felt himself go into a state of weightlessness, feeling the wind embrace him as he rushed into the sky. It was his first test flight and he never ever wanted to come back down. Especially since the podracer was an absolute dream to fly, feeling more like an extension of his body than a separate vehicle.

When Ben touched down hours later, Poe and Han were there to greet him and gush over it, as well as compliment his piloting skills.

Armitage was nowhere in sight.

Millicent had moved to their room, Ben realised when he returned to their bedroom, a little sweaty with dishevelled, damp strands framing his face. He had run his fingers through his mane countless times to shake the distinct look of _helmet hair_ out of it.

Armitage looked up from where he was sitting on the bed, a ball of ginger fluffiness curled up in his lap as he watched a movie on his holocube. Smiling at the sight, he climbed onto the bed, boots and leather jacket and all, and asked: “What are you two watching?”

There was a bit of a startled look on the man's face as if he hadn't expected him to start a conversation, let alone join him on the bed and the sleepy wolf-kitten lifted her head at the disturbance, staring at him out of bleary, green eyes.

Ben wanted to kiss both of them.

“ _Quest for Quasar_ ,” Armitage replied, though belatedly, and with a bit of wariness. “With Harlan Ottekvar as _Lord Baltharog_.”

“Isn't he a bit too short to play that guy?” he chuckled, making himself comfortable next to his husband as he stared at the projection, ignoring the man's disapproving frown. “ _Lord Baltharog_ was described as pretty tall in the book. Harlan is practically a midget.”

“Hardly a midget,” he huffed but he didn't really sound affronted or sour despite the irritated look he was giving him. “But, I suppose that he is a bit short for the role.” A pause. “You would have made a better fit, probably.”

At that, Ben laughed, carding his fingers through his sweaty hair once more as he looked at his husband.

“Me?” he chuckled, shaking his head but feeling flattered despite himself. “ _Lord Baltharog_ is supposed to be handsome. And brunette on top of that. I'm neither.”

“I'm perfectly aware of-” Armitage started but that was when Millicent decided to stand up and make her way to Ben, getting into his lap and lifting her front paws to knead his chest where his jacket was open. The soft black fabric of his undershirt wasn't quite barrier enough to prevent her claws from nicking his skin, but he didn't try to stop her. Instead, he let his fingers run over her long, fluffy body, feeling the taut muscles beneath the pelt, and marvelling at how very small she looked underneath his giant hands. A huff from somewhere next to him. “Traitor.”

“Jealous?” Ben asked, throwing his husband a cheeky grin, expecting some irritated denial or a witty comment.

Instead, his mouth remained shut and red blotches appeared on Armitage's cheeks.

Huh.

“You reek,” was all he said after several heartbeats of awkward silence before he swatted Ben's hands away from his cat and put her back into his own lap. “And take your boots off, you savage.”

He was almost sorry for it when all he could do was laugh, his mood better than ever.

“Alright, I'll go and take a shower,” he relented amicably enough but decided to be a bit of an ass anyway when he didn't get off the bed on his own side and instead climbed over Armitage to make the man bristle.

“You brute!” he yelled after him as Ben disappeared to the fresher to wash up, chuckling all the way to the shower.

When he came back, hair dripping and dressed in nothing but grey sleeping pants, Armitage was still watching the same scene. Even though he wanted to ask him if he had paused the movie for his sake, he decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth for once. Instead, he silently reclaimed his former spot, not quite touching his husband, but sitting close enough for it to feel companionable if not intimate.

Ben freely laughed at all the funny scenes and even though his husband resolutely stayed silent, there was always a slight twitch of his lips when he turned his head to look at him, eyes sparkling with amusement. He did, however, openly scowl every time Millicent demanded a bit of affection from Ben as she stretched her body until her paws reached his pants so she could sink her claws into the fabric and, unfortunately, also his skin. Baring the pain, he reached out to pet her anyway. Armitage huffed.

Jealousy was a good look on him, Ben decided with a grin.

“I thought you said you didn't read novels,” he said at some point, catching the man off-guard if the sudden tension in the line of his shoulders was anything to go by.

“I don't.”

“How are holomovies any better?”

“They're over after two or three hours.”

Ben hummed, lost in thought. When the holomovie was over and they moved to get under the covers in preparation for sleep, an idea struck him. Looking at Armitage, who was probably peeling his socks from his feet underneath the blanket from the looks of it, he bit his lower lip.

“Have you ever been to the Coruscanti cinema?”, he asked, feeling nervous all of a sudden, but his happiness made it easier to ignore that. “The big one?”

“Once or twice,” Armitage said, stuffing one sock into the other before placing them neatly on his bedside table. “Why?”

“I've never been,” he confessed. His husband turned to look at him, expressionless. “Or well, at least I don't remember. I think my parents took me when I was very little. Before my powers got out of control.”

Armitage remained silent but he was listening.

“Finn hasn't either,” he continued, pulling the blanket over his shoulders and looking up at him, lying on the side. “We could go sometime. The four of us.”

He would have preferred to be alone with him, but his husband might feel less uncomfortable if they weren't. After all, they were still on uneven footing with each other and Armitage remained friends with the pilot, much to Ben's chagrin.

“You would invite Poe?” Armitage asked with a bit of disbelief, cocking an eyebrow. “You might end up strangling him before we even reach Coruscant.”

“Finn would never let me,” he grinned and there was once again a tiny twitch on the corner of the other man's mouth. “So... would you like to go?”

There was no small amount of hesitation before Armitage sighed and said: “It would depend on the holomovie.”

“We'll find something,” Ben promised, stifling the beam threatening to take over his features.

Armitage hummed before turning his back on him. The smile died on his face, but then there was a quiet: “Good night, Ben.”

“Good night, Armitage,” he whispered back, turning to lie on his back and look up at the ceiling. Millicent curled up in the gap between them, her tail brushing his cheek as she did so.

It was the best night he had in a long while.

______________________________________________________________________

I don't have photoshop anymore, so I did this with Sony Vegas 17 Pro which is a video editing programme and therefore ill-equipped for photo editing but oh, well. Please excuse the shitty editing quality haha This is more or less what I imagined Ben's pilot gear to look like, though the face shield is a lot darker but I didn't want to cover all of his pretty face, at least not for the picture!

Here's Ben Skywalker (His pseudonym as a podracer) at the Boonta Eve Classic Podrace:  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: The holomovie they're watching actually exists within the Star Wars universe, as well as the actor haha
> 
> Btw.: I have tumblr! Like, I don't really use it anymore. I only bothered to log in so I could upload this picture but if anyone feels like writing me a private message or something, you may!
> 
> https://captainmercurian.tumblr.com/


	17. All of my attempts seem to weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A double-date to the movies, rainbow-flavored flubbs and unnecessary fights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaaah, this didn't turn out the way I want to, at all! Like, parts of it, yeah, but most of it was my brain just word-vomiting on my laptop screen. Especially the end scene, though, it's not really an end scene. Since no one in this story is cooperating with what I actually want them to do, I had to split the chapter in two /again/. This is almost 5k and if I added all of the clubbing shit, it would have probably doubled the word count!  
> Okay, so... Enjoy this mess haha But don't get too comfortable reading it. Ben & Armitage are still idiots, don't ever forget that!

Ben had very little memory of what Coruscant's Capital looked like despite knowing that at one point his mother had taken him with her to a military meeting, back when they had still been at war with the Regency Worlds. It felt strange now to think of Armitage as an enemy and he couldn't help but shudder at the thought of them standing on opposite sides in a battle. The Jedi Knights would have joined the war at some point, after all, so it wasn't that outlandish a thought that he might have come face to face with an Arkanian General, completely unaware of the brilliant mind behind beautiful blue eyes, uncaring of the tenderness and dry wit hidden underneath a mask of calculated coldness. Armitage wouldn't have stood a chance against him in a fight.

“Keep an eye on Armie over here – As much as you two are the darling couple of the Republic, there are still some small-minded assholes out there getting their panties in a twist 'cause he's Arkanian,” Han had told him when he had seen them off, a knowing glint shimmering in his eyes. “But don't take the ' _keeping an eye on_ _him_ '-thing too literally, no matter how much you like what you see.”

Sometimes, he really, really hated his father.

He had a point, though. To the public, Armitage was a foreigner, born on the wrong side of the war. Him being married to Ben didn't help much either, since he was only an estranged prince who had yet to be officially reinstated as heir to the Alderaanian throne. For more than a century Ben was believed to become a Jedi instead of King, after all – Celibate and therefore useless when it came to keeping the bloodline alive, part of a religious group that the overwhelming majority of the population didn't believe in since the end of the Clone Wars and, above all, completely removed from the public eye. A few months back, no one even knew what he looked like. And now he was back, still dressed as a Jedi even after all this time in the palace, and married to the enemy with whom he had been in a made-up starcrossed relationship for a few years before supposedly abandoning the Jedi Order for him.

He could see how that might look bad to some people.

“It looks exactly like in the movies,” Finn breathed, clearly in awe, as they stepped out of the shuttle into the smog covering the streets of the City of Spires and found themselves immediately dwarfed by the overwhelmingly large buildings reaching up to the sky, their length seemingly endless from down here.

Ben felt equally dumbstruck as he looked up to what little he could see of the inky night sky, its darkness violently interrupted by the colourful lights of the windows, billboards and landspeeders dashing by. He could barely see any stars from here, their glow drowned out by neon letters and passing headlights.

“It's really strange that you haven't been to Coruscant until now,” Poe commented, flinging an arm around Finn's waist as he started to walk, leading them out of the shuttle park. “The Jedi seem to avoid everything _fun_.”

“ **That's not true** ,” Ben and Finn disagreed almost in sync, brows drawn together in displeasure and clearly offended by the implication that their childhood and youth spent in the temple had been anything but happy. (Sure, Ben had had a harder time than the others but it wasn't the way of the Jedi that was at fault.)

Startled, they looked at each other and soon enough, Finn laughed, making Ben smile the tiniest bit.

“Our way of life is different,” Finn said, voice filled with conviction and protectiveness. “But not any less fun or exciting than anyone else's.”

“Oh yeah?” Poe huffed, clearly unbelieving. “What about the rule of attachment? That Jedi Master of yours sounds like a dick, honestly, if he punishes young people for falling in love.”

The sudden burst of anger he felt at those words – at Luke being insulted, called something that he _wasn't_ – was so intense that he nearly broke his promise regarding force-choking the insufferable pilot. It was Armitage's hand touching his elbow that kept him from doing something he would regret later, grounding and calming him with its weight.

“He doesn't!” Finn protested fiercely, clearly just as affronted as Ben was. “Master Skywalker never once punished or even reprimanded Ben when he-”

Panic bubbled up inside his chest, bleeding into the force with such intensity that it shut the other knight up instantly.

“When he what?” Poe asked as they all came to a halt.

All eyes were on him but it was Armitage's gaze that seemingly burned through his skin, laying all of his sins bare. His face was unreadable when he turned to look at him, but he did seem tenser than just a second before. His hand was still on Ben's elbow.

“When I got engaged,” he answered as nonchalant as humanly possible while everything inside him was screaming at Finn, feeling betrayed and absolutely terrified of Armitage seeing right through the both of them. Rey was supposed to be a secret kept forever – Finn had _promised_.

“Yeah, well, you're his nephew and a prince on top of that. He can't very well punish you for marrying royalty and ending an entire war in the process.”

Ben was confused for a second before he remembered that Poe didn't know either that their marriage had been an arranged one.

“I suppose,” Ben said slowly, tentatively, fear still rushing through his veins and making him sweat underneath his heavy robes. “It doesn't change the fact that he never tried to dissuade me from feeling attached to someone, even though I was still in training.”

The fingers on his arm tightened their hold for a second and when he turned once again to meet his husband's gaze, the blue of his eyes didn't seem quite as cold as they had just moments before. Shame and guilt sunk their teeth into his heart, replacing his anxiety with something much more painful.

“Why am I still treated like a dirty secret then?” Poe asked, turned towards Finn and clearly unhappy. “If your Master is so fine with his underlings _feeling attached_ , I don't see why you can't tell him about me. I mean, he's the closest to _meeting the father_ I will ever get.”

“Fine, I will!” Finn almost shouted, clearly exasperated, his energy brimming with residue fear of exposing Ben's relationship with Rey and newly added trepidation about confessing to Luke that he broke his vows. It must be a lot harder on him than on Ben, too, since he had never been anything less than a picture-perfect Padawan, doing everything by the book.

“We will miss the start of the movie if we continue to dawdle,” Armitage piped up for the first time ever since reaching the Coruscanti hemisphere. “So stop the dilly-dally and move, Poe.”

“Yes, sir!” the idiot saluted with a grin, clearly pleased by Finn's promise as he finally continued to walk with a happy spring in his step and Finn's hand in his.

He and Armitage followed close behind, their own walking pace slower than usual since the pair in front of them had much shorter legs than they had. Ben couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly his husband kept in step with him, their strides completely in sync. It made him feel connected to Armitage despite their lack of physical contact – Even so, he really wanted to take his hand, too.

The way to the cinema got increasingly uncomfortable as the streets got fuller and fuller, the closer they got to the City Centre. Humans and aliens alike were roving about, occasionally bumping their shoulders as they hurried along, lost in their self-centred bubble like most City folks were. Armitage sneered when a particularly slimy individual brushed past him, prompting Ben to reach around him and grasp his upper arm, so he could pull him out of the way when another one followed close behind. For a moment, his husband tensed as he stumbled into Ben, clearly surprised by the action, but relaxed immediately after. Ben's heart soared at that small show of trust.

“We should rent a landspeeder next time,” Poe declared when they finally made it to a huge, colourfully lit building, neon letters reading _A Shadow Falls_ , _Armor of Honour_ , _Rodian Kisses_ and _Another Idiot's Array 2_ among other movie titles currently playing. “I'm still voting for _SuperKnight: The Awakening_ by the way.”

“Another role _Harlan Ottekvar_ is far too short for.”

“Oh, shut up, Ben. Not everyone's a giant like you.”

“I'm not a giant, you're just tiny.”

“I'm not _tiny_.”

“You are rather short, Poe,” Armitage interjected unexpectedly, making the man bristle and Ben smirk.

“You too, Armitage?” the not-so-cocky-anymore pilot asked, mouth agape. “ _Really_?”

“I've seen children taller than you.”

“Now you're talking out of your ass, Ben!”

“I was taller than you by the time I was 15. Maybe even 14.”

“I call bullshit on that!”

“He actually was,” Finn piped up weakly, shrugging helplessly when Poe turned to him with a look of complete and utter betrayal. “Master Skywalker is about as tall as us and Ben was pretty much towering over him at 16.”

Smugly, Ben grinned and when Poe glared at him, he couldn't help but do what that asshole had done to Ben more than once when he had been openly flirting with his husband – He winked. At that, the pilot looked positively murderous but, as always, Armitage decided to step in before one of them killed the other. Or rather before Ben killed Poe. The guy stood no chance against him.

“We agreed on _A Shadow Falls_ yesterday,” he reminded them calmly, arms held behind his back, his stance perfectly military and authoritative.

“No, you and Ben decided that,” Poe snorted, still clearly irritated. “I wanted _SuperKnight_ and Finn abstained from voicing an opinion like the _loyal_ boyfriend he is.”

“Hey, I just happen to think that both movies sound pretty good,” Finn scowled, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “I mean, they're both about some guy saving the world. They're basically the same.”

Ben couldn't help but bristle: “Did you just seriously compare a movie from a renowned director such as _Ch'been_ with something that stars _Harlan Ottekvar_?”

“What is it with you and that actor?” Armitage asked but before he could open his mouth to tell him just how ridiculous the man looked in every single mediocre action movie he was in, he was silenced by a gracefully raised hand. “I changed my mind, I don't want to know. And quite honestly, I think if we stay in each other's vicinity for even 5 minutes longer, _someone_ is going to leave this building in a body bag.”

Poe, definitely.

“He's right,” Finn agreed, sighing loudly and grabbing the pilot by the hand. “How about you and Ben go to see _A Shadow Falls_ , and I go watch _SuperKnight_ with Poe?”

They were splitting. Ben was going to be alone with his husband. Excitement and trepidation bubbled up inside his chest as he turned to look at Armitage to gauge the man's reaction. His face was as impassive as ever but there was a moment of hesitation before he nodded, his eyes flickering in Ben's direction for a split second before training them back on Finn.

“That sounds sensible,” he said, his voice lacking any sort of emotion. A part of him was happy anyway, the other already felt disillusioned, especially, when he remembered Luke quoting exactly those words when he told him about Armitage's (lack of) reaction to the rule of attachment.

“Fine,” Poe said and he disappeared shortly after that, with Finn in tow, presumably to get their tickets. Which left him and Armitage standing by themselves in the colourful and grand foyer, different movie trailers playing all around them, covering every inch of wall that wasn't tinted glass.

Even though the room was packed with humans and aliens alike, it felt like they were completely alone as everything around them blurred into one loud, neon mess, his focus solely on his husband.

Armitage on the other hand only turned to look him in the eye when Ben finally spoke: “You get the tickets, I get the food?”

He didn't really want to leave his side but the man seemed so uncomfortable that he wanted to give him the chance to be away from him for a bit. It was sad, really, that all of the ease he had just moments before vanished with Finn's and Poe's departure.

“I'd like some water,” Armitage said, stiffly. “I don't particularly care for anything else sold in here.”

Ben wouldn't know whether or not he liked any of the sweet and salty treats on offer since he hadn't had any for over a decade but if his husband decided that he didn't want any of it, then he wouldn't get himself anything either. He nodded.

“Water then.”

The second, he was alone and aware of his surroundings, he noticed how many people were staring at him. Maybe some of them recognised the Prince of Alderaan, or maybe it was his long, dark robe and the lightsaber attached to his hip that put them off. After all, Jedi weren't exactly known for going to the movies and with that in mind, he felt unnecessarily awkward when he stood in line to get him and Armitage their drinks.

The woman behind the counter was a young, lilac-skinned Twi'lek who cocked a brow at him the second he stepped to the counter. Her violet eyes looked him up and down before she remembered why he was standing there in the first place.

“What can I get you?” she asked, clearly trying not to stare at his lightsaber. Or at least, he hoped that it was the lightsaber her eyes were constantly flickering to.

“Water,” he said, feeling a little bit stupid when her brow rose even more.

“Mini, Midi or Maxi?”

“Midi, I guess,” he shrugged. “Two of those.”

“That all?”

He nodded and she shook her head slightly as if she still couldn't believe that he was ordering _water_. While she was preparing his underwhelming order, his eyes wandered to the different sorts of sweets and snacks on display.

“Can humans eat that?” he asked with genuine curiosity and pointed at glowing, colourful balls that were bouncing inside their box.

She furrowed her brows as if she wasn't sure whether or not he was kidding and even though he wasn't actively looking inside her head, he could clearly hear her think: _Did that weirdo live under a rock his whole life?_

“Not a rock, no,” he answered and couldn't help but feel a little smug when he saw her blanch, mouth opening in shock and mortification. “It was a temple, actually.” Now, her cheeks flushed in a dark purple and he almost felt bad for her. “So, are they? Or will I need medical intervention if I eat those?”

“No, no, they're perfectly edible for humans,” she hurried to answer, putting a cap on the second cup of water that she put on the counter for him to take.

“Then I'd like the smallest portion.”

She nodded and he watched her open the box and scooping several balls into a small transparent container before quickly putting the lid on it. After he paid, he took the cups of water and then lifted the little box with the bouncing sweets with the force, forcing himself not to smirk at her little gasp. With the container floating in front of him, he went to find Armitage in the crowd which was fortunately pretty easy, considering that they were both the tallest humans milling about and red hair was so rare, that he had never seen a human ginger that wasn't a Hux.

There was a confused little frown when his husband spotted him too, his eyes trained on his choice of sweets. Or the blatant misuse of the force. He wasn't sure.

“You bought flubbs?” Armitage asked him with unnecessary disbelief.

“Is that what they're called?” he inquired with raised brows because the name was _cute_ and quite fitting. Ben shrugged when Armitage only blinked at him. “I thought they looked funny. I've never seen bouncing food before. Are they alive?”

Those blue eyes stared at him for a moment longer, red lips twitching for a second though he wasn't sure whether it was up or down – Then, inexplicably, his face relaxed a tiny bit, his gaze softening to something he might have interpreted as affection if it came from anybody else.

“They're not sentient beings if that is what you mean by _alive_ ,” he explained and then started walking, leading Ben to the cinema hall. “They're alive in the same sense as a flower would be.”

“Ah,” was all he said, his curiosity sated and then continued to abuse the force by opening the lid a bit, forcing all of the flubbs, except for a pink one, down so they wouldn't tumble out of the box. Then he made the pink flubb float into his mouth.

“You are an actual child,” Armitage said like he had just noticed and couldn't figure out why it had taken him so long to come to that conclusion.

Ben only shrugged, happily munching the flubb that had stopped moving the second his mouth had closed. The texture was very strange, chewy but also moist and smooth. It was very sweet, too, but Ben found that he quite liked the taste. He didn't know how to describe it, except that it tasted like what he would imagine a rainbow to taste like.

“Do you want one?” he offered once he was done eating but the question was met with a shake of the head.

“Maybe when we're inside,” he said, appeasing Ben's rising disappointment. “They stop glowing and moving once they're deprived of light.”

Feeling stupid again, he confessed: “I did wonder how force-null people even eat those without losing half of them.”

If he didn't know any better, he would say that Armitage looked at him with a mixture of amusement and fondness – It made Ben's heart stutter and his ears suddenly felt pretty warm which made him very glad that his hair was long enough to cover them completely.

When they found their seats, somewhere that wasn't quite the very back but also not really in the middle of the room, he finally put the box down on his lap and gave Armitage the cup of water he had purchased for him.

“Thank you,” he said and then frowned a little bit when he saw how Ben was staring at him. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, tearing his gaze away to look at the still blank screen instead. “It's just... you don't say that very often. At least not to me.”

Armitage didn't deign an answer.

The cinema hall was slowly filling out and they were forced to stand up multiple times so other people could get to their seat. Ben really envied the short woman to his right that remained sitting the entire time since her stubby legs allowed people to just pass by her. No such luck for men of their height since both he and Armitage were quite gangly and if he was honest with himself, he would admit that Poe's description of him wasn't that off. He did feel like a giant more often than not – Especially when he heard the Rodian behind him complain about that _huge head_ blocking his view. Embarrassed, he discreetly sank a bit into his seat, his knees already touching the row in front of him as he tried to make himself as small as possible. Armitage threw him a confused look but didn't comment.

Once the lights were off, the flubbs did actually die. It almost made him sad when he couldn't feel them bouncing inside their little box anymore and he sighed inaudibly as he opened the container to pop another one into his mouth – Green, probably, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the mostly green-tinted movie trailer playing on-screen.

When the movie finally started, he felt a little nudge against his arm. Turning to look at Armitage, he was surprised to find him mouthing ' _Can I?_ ' while pointing at the box in his lap. Nodding, he raised the box a little and Armitage rummaged a bit, selfishly stealing all the red ones. Ben hadn't even tried those yet. When his husband saw his affronted look, he _grinned_. Even in the darkness of the cinema hall, he could see the daring glint in his eyes and the smug little peek of his canine tooth as he took a defiant bite out of one of them.

Oh, no, two could play that game.

Before he could eat the entire thing, he grabbed the man's wrist and manhandled it towards him, capturing the half-eaten flubb with his teeth, practically eating it from his hand. Armitage immediately pulled his arm away once Ben loosened his iron grip while grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“ _You savage_!” his husband whisper-hissed with a scandalised expression on his face, prompting one of the Rodians behind him to shush them.

Ben made him choke on his popcorn. If his husband noticed, he didn't say anything.

(The red flubb tasted like the smile on Armitage's face whenever he looked at Millicent.)

The movie was good, like all of _Ch'been_ 's works so far, even though he did cringe one or two times when the cloaked force-user did things with the force that were either ridiculous or impossible – like changing his outfit with a flick of his wrist which was both of those things –, especially considering that he was some sort of pirate with no formal training whatsoever. But all in all, it was good; the action was decent, the drama was excellent and the humour was sparse but perfectly placed to not disrupt the overall gloominess of the movie.

The best part, however, was the focused and entranced look on Armitage's face whenever Ben sneaked a peek. Which was often. Their gazes met two times which made them both flinch a little bit and immediately turn back towards the screen. His heart was racing for minutes after and more often than not, he was clenching his fist to stop himself from trying to take the delicate hand lying limply on Armitage's thigh. It would be far too awkward to reach over the armrest to do it and he was terrified of his husband rejecting his touch. So he remained sitting still, watching the movie with as much focus as he could muster.

It was over far too soon.

When they left, throwing their cups and the empty flubb box away as they passed a conveniently placed rubbish bin, he noticed that they forgot to discuss where to reunite with Finn and Poe.

“They wanted to go to the Outlander Club afterwards,” Armitage told him when he broached the subject. “I'm pretty sure their movie was shorter than ours, so they might be on their way or there already.”

“Alright,” he said, feeling awkward and nervous when they just stood there, looking at each other. “Do you want to take an airtaxi?”

He did.

The drive was a silent affair, though he enjoyed the way all those neon-lights hit Armitage's ivory, smooth skin and tinted his red hair in different colours. He looked especially striking whenever he was bathed in blue light.

“Did you like the movie?” he eventually asked even though it felt like they had missed the right moment to discuss the film, instead opting to remain quiet as they usually did.

“It felt a bit fantastical at times.”

“Ah,” Ben said. He hated that word. “So you didn't like it.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You implied it.”

“No, you just filled the blanks with your assumptions.” A pause. “I did like it, actually. A bit depressing and I wasn't sure what to think of the bucket on his head, but overall it was very entertaining and well-made.”

_You just fill the blanks with your assumptions_.

He hardly listened to the rest, something about an interesting but unrealistic concept for a speederbike, as his mind replayed that sentence over and over again, irritating and frustrating him more and more by the second. Armitage made it sound like it was _Ben_ 's fault that their communication seemed faulty at times. Sure, he was pretty convinced that he was socially inept and not nearly as intelligent or experienced and educated about worldly matters as Armitage, but to put the blame of their incompatibility completely on him was just _unfair_.

“I wouldn't have to _fill_ any _blanks with my assumptions_ if there weren't any,” he blurted out, interrupting whatever engineering gibberish was tumbling out of that genius mouth of his. “You never just say what you think or feel, you either give me the silent treatment or answer with some generic information on whatever the hell we're talking about.”

Armitage's mouth snapped shut and his face quickly morphed into a displeased scowl.

“You want me to tell you what I think and feel?” he asked, though it didn't sound like a question at all and he didn't give him time to answer either. “I can certainly do that. After all, that went so well last time.”

_I think that you are an arrogant, spoilt infant who is only happy when throwing tantrums and having everyone around you cowering in fear of you._

The memory felt like a slap to his face and Ben's features hardened, anger quickly starting to take over while Armitage simply turned cold again, aloof and just slightly disgusted. As if he was some unworthy peasant wasting his time, no more pleasant than the dirt underneath his glossy boots.

“You're deflecting _again_ ,” Ben growled, frustrated, trying to get a grip on his anger and not lash out. “Do you really not notice that you leave holes in every single sentence of yours? You force me to read between the lines constantly and now you blame me for reading them wrong? Just say that you don't trust me enough to voice your opinion or share your feelings with me instead of provoking me by throwing my words back at my face.”

“I don't trust you enough to voice my opinion or share my feelings with you,” Armitage repeated with a sneer, his brows drawing together. “There. Are you satisfied now?”

Ben felt like crying.

“Do you mean that or did you just quote me?” he asked, hating that his voice sounded weak and tired all of a sudden as all of the hope that had started to rise from the ashes since the ball trickled through his fingers like sand.

“It's what you wanted to hear,” Armitage answered with his clipped accent, deflecting once again as if he was completely incapable of just saying ' _yes_ ' or ' _no_ '. “What more do you want?”

“ _ **You**_!” he practically shouted, making both the cab driver and Armitage flinch. “I want _you_ to be _you_ around me! I don't want you to say what I want to hear, I want you to say whatever the kriff you want to say! I want to hear and see what you feel! Sure, you're obviously rabid but even now you're holding back. Anger is the only emotion that is even remotely identifiable _ever_. What are you afraid of? Is it me?”

“I'm not _afraid_ ,” Armitage snapped, red blotches appearing on his neck and cheeks, fingers clawing at his own thighs. “Did you ever consider the possibility that I might not _want_ to say anything? That I'm not sharing my feelings because I don't actually _feel_ any particular way?”

Ben stared at him, looking for a twitch, for tension, for _anything_. There was nothing. Armitage's face was completely blank except for the flush, mind barrier up, aura shut down. Defeated, he whispered: “So you _are_ a soulless robot.”

“If that is how you want to call it, then, by all means, go ahead.”

Ben didn't know what to say to that.

“So,” the cab driver piped up, disrupting the heavy silence. “How long have you two been married?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to hit both of them. They're so fucking dense and socially impaired, it's hell.  
> Also: Please excuse all of the unnecessary scenes like the one with the cashier. The world-building sometimes gets the better of me. Feel free to tell me if you ever feel like there are too many useless interactions going on!
> 
> P.S.: I work in a cinema, too! Though I don't judge people based on their orders lol I do, however, judge them when they call Nachos 'Tacos' instead. The Texan part of my brain and all of my Mexican mother's ancestors scream in pain everytime I hear that haha


	18. I left a part of something with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe doesn't know when to shut up and Finn needs someone to remind him why he was sent to the palace in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You won't believe it when I tell you that I had to split the chapter AGAIN. Yeah. So. I mean, I probably could write like a 10k chapter but I kind of liked how this ended, though I'm sure that you will want to kill me once you reach that point haha  
> I hope y'all will like this chapter but please beware: This chapter is very painful. Like really fucking painful.  
> (Always keep in mind that this WILL have a happy ending, though!!! Even if it doesn't look like it so far haha)

The Outlander Club wasn't half as seedy and crowded as Ben had imagined a nightclub to be. In fact, it actually looked quite sophisticated despite the dubious location, its guests ranging from some scruffy-looking individuals to what he could swear was Kosnian Royalty. The lights were mostly purple and red, and he could see several huge screens broadcasting some sports event or another though there weren't a lot of people actually watching.

Armitage didn't hesitate even for a second as he stepped foot into the Club, expertly weaving his way through the shiny dresses and sharp suits and uniforms, clearly in a hurry to not be alone with him anymore. Ben's mood was worsening by the minute, especially when they found Finn and Poe heavily making out in a booth. Unbothered, Armitage took a seat opposite them, though he did move a little further away when Ben followed to sit next to him. He pretended to neither notice nor care.

“Oh, hey!” Poe greeted them when he finally noticed them while Finn visibly shrunk, embarrassed about having been seen like that. As if they hadn't already heard them fucking for _days_. “How was your movie?”

“Good,” was all Armitage answered, brusquely so, his gaze firmly directed at the couple.

“ _SuperKnight_ was actually pretty good, too,” Finn told them, clearly in a good mood now that he got over the interruption of their make-out session. “And really funny! You should have joined us.”

“Yeah, maybe you two wouldn't look like a pair of depressed Kaminoans then,” Poe chuckled, though, he did throw Armitage a questioning look, obviously worried. As if it had been _Ben_ hurting the other man when all he had wanted was to get his husband to talk to him – _really_ talk to him.

“The movie had nothing to do with it,” Ben couldn't help but grumble, making Armitage tense up. He suddenly felt the urge to get himself some shots despite his firm resolve to not get drunk ever again.

“Oh?” the pilot asked, his gaze flickering between the two of them as if he could see what happened written on their faces in bold letters. “Did you two fight?” Neither of them answered. “Ben, what did you do this time?”

What.

“Me?” he asked, disbelieving as he pointed at himself. “You think _I_ started it?”

“This is a private matter that I do _not_ wish to discuss inside a club.”

“So, he _did_ start it,” Poe pressed, ignoring Ben as he bristled, affronted and trying very hard to not lose his temper over blatantly being painted as the bad guy. “Seriously, Ben, can you go one full day without throwing a tantrum?”

“Poe, _don't_ ,” Finn interjected but Ben was already standing, almost shaking from the intense anger thrumming in his veins as he tried to talk himself out of beating that handsome, stupid face in with his bare fist. He wouldn't even need the force to kill the man – In fact, he was convinced that it wouldn't take more than one well-placed hit to knock that asshole out.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was aware that he wasn't helping his case by flying into a rage.

“Ben, sit down,” Armitage said with that General voice of his – like Ben was nothing but one of his underlings or a dog waiting for a command. It was humiliating.

Angry, he turned to his husband as he hissed: “You don't get to order me around. I'll leave, so you can pour out your woes about what a terrible monster you were forced to marry!”

“Wait what?” Poe asked at the same time that Finn blurted out: “Nobody thinks you're a mon-”

“No?” he interrupted, his face feeling hot and raw, fists clenched to the point of hurting. “ _Nobody_? This asshole thought I was abusing my own husband! And you were terrified when you came to the palace!”

“You almost threw me over a balcony!”

“He did _what_?”

“Ben, you need to calm down,” Armitage told him with that same loathsome tone. “We can talk about this, there is no need for a scene.”

“Oh, _now_ you want to talk?”

“Armitage, what the kriff did he mean by ' _forced_ '?”

“Yes, _please_ enlighten this nerf-herder about the nature of our _wonderful_ marriage,” Ben scoffed, sarcasm dripping of his tongue in equal amounts to the venom he was spitting. “Since he is probably the only idiot still buying that starcrossed lovers banthashit that my mother fabricated.”

Armitage's face was flushing. Maybe. It was hard to tell in the fluorescent light bathing his ivory skin in red, blue eyes looking lilac as they stared up at him, pale eyebrows drawn into a frown. His lips were closed and it didn't seem like he was planning on talking anytime soon.

Alright, then.

“It's a political marriage, you moron,” Ben snorted, delighted at seeing the confusion on Poe's face morphing into an expression of realisation – And then something like horror. Even though he knew that he needed to stop, to _shut up_ , he couldn't help but add: “We can't even talk to each other, how in the seven hells did you actually believe that we were in love at _any_ point?”

Finally, it seemed like the pilot had nothing to say. It didn't feel satisfying at all - Especially when the entire table remained silent, both Poe and Finn staring at him with _pity_ of all things, while Armitage just... sat there. Unmoving. Emotionless. _Soulless_.

Ben was in love with an empty shell.

“I'm leaving,” he breathed, his body still trembling with rage. “I'll get back to Alderaan by myself, so don't worry about picking me up.”

“Ben-” Finn started but he simply turned away, shouldering one of the nosy onlookers with so much force that the guy almost fell over. The rest of the people parted for him like the sea, clearly afraid of the hulking figure in black that looked dangerous, furious, positively _murderous_ as he passed them by.

Cool, polluted air greeted him once he left the nightclub and stepped unto the Coruscanti backstreet, trying to get a hold of the raging fire of his emotions burning inside his chest and clouding his mind. He needed to put as much distance between himself and the three men as humanly possible, he decided, as he started walking despite having no idea where he was or where he wanted to go. For now, the physical activity itself helped with clearing his head, though, it wasn't quite as effective as going on a destructive rampage. Anger was still thrumming through his veins even after an hour of mindless wandering, but it had subsided enough to leave room for other emotions: Disappointment. Betrayal. Sadness.  
In one word: Heartbreak.

Ben's feet felt heavier by the second, his fingers numb from having them curled into a fist for far too long and the tip of his nose started to itch from the cold. Somehow, it was that last, small sensation that made him enter the next bar he encountered, throwing his resolve to not ever drink again out of the metaphorical window.

Now, this place did look exactly like what he had expected it to: Dodgy, filthy and unsafe.

It was probably stupid to get drunk in a place like this but Ben was positive that even with his senses impaired, he would have no problem fighting off some scoundrels. There was nothing a nice little force push couldn't solve.

Some of the punters, alien and human alike, looked up when they saw him walking in, but they all quickly turned back to their drinks, probably used to seeing strange figures of all kinds walking in and out of this place. The few people loitering at the bar counter paid him no mind at all when he took a seat, eyes squinting in an effort to read the menu written on the wall.

“What's your poison, handsome?” a rough, female voice asked him and Ben's eyes snapped to the barkeeper. She was an Iktotchi, tall and lean, fairly attractive with sharp features and pale pinkish-brownish skin. The downcurved cranial horns framing her face were painted dark red, matching both her nail polish and lipstick. In another world, he may have felt tempted to reciprocate her seductive gaze even if only to boost his own ego, but as things were he wasn't interested in flirting with anyone who wasn't male, tall and redheaded with a crisp accent and pale eyes.

Force, he was a goner.

“I don't know,” he confessed, looking back at the menu but he really had a hard time reading anything with lighting this dim. “Something for humans. And _very_ strong.”

“Rough day?” she asked with a small chuckle, glasses clinking as she prepared whatever drink she thought would please him. He answered with a grunt and it seemed like she got the message because when he looked back at her, the flirty gaze was replaced with a sympathetic one. “Here. That should knock you out, big boy.”

The glass she placed in front of him was rectangular and short, almost completely filled with an amber, creamy-looking liquid. It smelled quite pleasant when he raised the glass to his mouth and downed two big gulps of it, desperate to blur the frayed edges of his mind. The taste was sugary but also unmistakably alcoholic and it felt just as creamy as it looked. All in all, it was a pretty good choice and he felt a little better already.

“What is that?” he asked, already pondering on whether or not he should purchase some bottles of whatever this was to take back home. He had a feeling, he would need them.

“Arkanian sweet milk,” she answered and Ben wasn't sure whether to cry or laugh. Of course, she chose something Arkanian for him when his pain was caused by _someone_ Arkanian. “It's the strongest type of mead we have but you also looked like you needed something sweet. Do you like it?”

Sadly, he did.

“Yes, thank you,” he said, feeling miserable as he stared at his beverage. “It's good.”

She smiled at that and immediately refilled his glass when he emptied it. To his utter relief, she didn't ask him about the reason for his need to get drunk like the bartenders in the movies seemed to do all the time. He could feel her throwing glances at him more than once, though, even when serving other people but it failed to make him feel any better about himself. The only person he wanted to be looked at like that was nothing but an empty uniform. There was nothing behind those eyes and every word leaving those red lips was vapid.

Ben didn't even know why he loved him.

After the third drink, he visualised the Armitage he had seen in that nightmarish vision. It was so long ago but he still remembered him vividly – That man had loved him. Had been devoted to him. Had wanted him.

The real Armitage barely tolerated him.

When his glass was refilled for the fourth time, he felt someone approaching him. Turning his head, he saw a young man in dark clothes take the seat to his left. Disinterested and hoping to be left alone, he wanted to turn back to his drink but no such luck.

“A Jedi,” a smooth, deep voice said and Ben was met with dark eyes staring at him through the fan of straight, thin lashes. “One doesn't see your kind around here all that often. Though, by the look of your clothes, one might reckon you're a Sith.”

Irritated, his brows drew together and he couldn't help but sneer a little when he grunted: “Wearing black hardly makes me a Sith.”

“No,” the man agreed, leaning back a little, his face serious and severe-looking despite his obvious youth and soft features like the rounded tip of his nose and wide nasal base and nostrils. “But it does indicate a certain fascination with the Dark Side.”

Taking a deep breath in an effort to not let his anger get the best of him once again, he shook his head and took a long drink, letting its sweetness soothe him. He would not let this stranger get a rise out of him. He absolutely refused to.

“What would you know about the Dark Side?” he snorted and then stilled when he felt through the force and realised: “You're force sensitive.”

The man's full lips stretched into a smile and he snapped his fingers at the bartender, prompting her to get the man a glass filled with blue liquid. This time she didn't even look at Ben, her gaze seeming far away.

“The Jedi aren't the only force-users still around,” the man said, letting his right ankle rest on top of his left knee. “But I'm sure you know that.”

“Force-user,” Ben repeated, unsure whether or not the stranger realised what he had just confessed to. “There is a difference between being a user and being sensitive. Who taught you?”

“A man who knows how to wield both sides of the force,” he answered smoothly, unbothered by Ben's conclusion, instead there was pride emitting from his aura. Somewhere in some muddled part of his brain, he knew that he should be alarmed at hearing any of that, but he was quickly distracted when the man changed subjects abruptly. “You're upset.” His low smooth voice was filled with compassion and the way those dark eyes looked at him made Ben feel like this young stranger knew and understood all of his pain. “I could feel it from the other end of the room. Your presence in the force is quite striking.”

“Oh,” he mumbled not without embarrassment, shrinking a bit in his seat and lowering his gaze back to the amber liquid in his glass. “I can leave if it disturbs you.”

After all, he knew how very unsettling it was to be around upset force-users, their frenzied aura clawing at one's nerves. More often than not, it had been a direct result of _his_ actions, making the sensation even worse.

“Disturb me?” the man chuckled, his thick soft brows climbing towards his hairline. “No. I wanted to ask if there was something I could do to help.”

“Help?” he asked incredulously, confused as to why some stranger would even bother to offer such a thing. “No. There is nothing you could do.”

 _Unless you can make my husband fall in love with me_ , he thought but didn't say, feeling the corners of his own lips twitch downward at that thought.

“I could listen,” he man offered, either unaware of the dismissive tone in Ben's voice or opting to ignore it. “Sometimes it helps to talk to a stranger. Unbiased perspective. Anonymity. You can tell me whatever you like, I won't judge.”

He shouldn't. It was none of his business. And what if the man actually knew who he was? Would he run and tell everyone that Prince Organa-Solo spent his nights drinking in seedy bars to mourn his shitty relationship with his husband? The media would have a field day if that ever got leaked.

But on the other hand, he was miserable and something inside him really, _really_ wanted to talk about it.

“I had a fight with my husband,” he finally confessed, wincing at the roughness of his own voice.

“Your husband?” the man asked, his dark eyes sizing him up, taking him in. “Aren't you a bit young to be married? I mean, you're very tall but your face is telling another story. How old are you? 20?”

“21,” he answered, slowly, his mind zeroing in on: _Aren't you a bit young to be married?_

Somehow, he had never given his age and its appropriateness for marriage much thought. He grew up knowing that he was going to have a husband, had convinced himself that it was _normal_ to wed a stranger who was 5 years his senior. Suddenly, it felt _very_ wrong. Unease started to settle in like an itch underneath his skin, the realisation sinking in that he shouldn't be tied to someone he hadn't chosen himself and especially not this _young_. Rattled, he downed the rest of his drink with one gulp, fidgeting in his seat as he started to feel claustrophobic for the first time in his life.

“It wasn't by choice,” he added weakly, feeling his heart pounding inside his chest as his face turned hot.

“An arranged marriage?” He nodded. “Is that even legal?” He had no idea. “And who picked that husband of yours? Your parents?” He nodded. “That's cold.”

Was it?

It was for the Greater Good. Marrying Armitage had brought peace. As a Prince it was his duty to protect the people of Alderaan. And his mother would never have done that to him if there had been any other way to stop the bloodshed. She wouldn't wrong him like this.

Or would she?

Had there been really no other way to settle the war?

Or had she simply deemed her son's freedom of heart to be of no importance?

All of a sudden, Ben felt like the frightened, furious 12-Year old that he had been 9 years ago – Before he had seen Armitage and lost a part of his heart to him, not knowing that he would never truly be his despite their marital bond. The betrayal that he had felt back then came rushing back to him, its impact so intense that he physically flinched. His eyes stung at remembering the tears he had shed night after night, knowing that he had been sold like cattle, that he had lost even another piece of freedom.

It was dizzying to realise that he had no freedom left.

“Why did you two fight anyway?” the man asked while the bartender refilled his glass. He should really stop drinking but he felt like he needed the alcohol to even think about answering that question. His fingers were tingling when he lifted the glass to his lips, numbness finally setting in. It eased the inferno of emotions inside him a bit.

“I wanted him to open up to me,” he mumbled, scowling at the Arkanian mead as if the amber liquid was to blame for his misery. “I know nothing about him but I want to. I want to know. I want to be close. But he doesn't let me. He just- He shuts me out. The guy's as force-sensitive as a rock but he was so intent on isolating himself from me that he managed to build a mind barrier. And I mean... Sure, I could break it. Would be easy. But that's like rape. Mind rape. I don't wanna do that. I want him to trust me and-and-and I want him to tell me because he wants to. Why doesn't he want to? I've been trying so hard but he doesn't _care_. At all. About anything. He's just- empty. He's kriffing empty. Maybe he just doesn't want me to see that there's nothing inside him. That he's this tall, beautiful shell with no soul or heart or whatever the kriff makes a person a person.”

Frustrated, Ben was scrubbing his face with both hands before his upper body tipped forward, making his elbows hit the bar counter. He was hanging his heavy head, his fingers gripping long strands of his own hair, groaning at the ache and the throbbing inside his skull, the cramping inside his chest and the numbness of his legs. Everything felt wrong.

“Why won't he talk to me?” he asked as if the stranger beside him knew any more than he did. “I just... I just want him to talk to me. But he doesn't want to. No one ever wants to talk to me. Not even my parents. They... they love me, I know that. They love me because I'm their son. But they don't _like_ me. They don't _like_ talking to me. My uncle likes me. But he can't be with me, he's needed in the temple. And Rey-” He sobbed at the mere sound of her name. It felt like years since he had dared to even speak it out loud. “Rey liked me. Loved me. Both. But they made us break up and now I don't even want her anymore. Isn't that terrible? I don't want the only person who ever loved and liked me – not because of blood but _by choice_. No, _I_ want the coldest, emptiest, most loveless shell of a man that ever existed.”

Tears were blurring his vision and he could feel his entire body shudder, his shoulders shaking, as he writhed inside the pain that was crushing him. With every sob it got harder and harder to breathe, making him feel like he was drowning. And maybe he was.

A warm, strong hand cupped the back his neck.

Ben stilled.

Closing his eyes, he couldn't help leaning a bit to the side, towards the stranger, the warmth, the _comfort_. The weight of that hand on his skin grounded him and he grabbed it like a lifeline, letting himself be pulled out of the water.

“Love isn't supposed to hurt you,” the stranger whispered, his fingers squeezing a bit, reassuringly. “And family isn't supposed to abandon and reject you.”

It wasn't, was it? Parents were supposed to _like_ their children. Husbands were supposed to _love_ their spouse.

“Maybe you should leave,” the man said, prompting Ben to sit back up, panicking and confused, wondering what he had done this time to be sent away by someone who had offered to _help_ him. “Your family, I mean. I think you should leave them.”

Relief flooded his body, especially when that strong hand slid from his neck to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

Then his words actually sank in.

“But they're my family,” he objected, weakly so, but he did. “They're all I have.”

“Family isn't always tied to blood, you know. And wedding vows don't mean a thing when they're not willingly given.” The man smiled, making his lower lids look puffy. He looked very young. “You can choose who you want to be with. You can choose your family. Even your name. Those shackles you fancy yourself in... they're imaginary. No one could stop you if you decided to leave this life behind. It's doing nothing for you. _They_ are doing nothing for you.”

“I could,” he agreed, nodding along to his words and straightening his back as he felt a new wave of strength coursing through his body. “They don't want me anyway.” Then his brows furrowed. “But then I'd be alone.” His heart clenched. “I'd have no one left.”

The stranger shook his head.

“That's not true,” he told him with such conviction that he couldn't help but believe him. “You have us.”

_Us?_

“I don't even know your name,” Ben suddenly realised, staring at the man and feeling like he had seen him somewhere before.

“My name is Ap'lek,” the man said, smiling again and laying his other hand on top of Ben's, the grip on his shoulder firm and secure. His touch felt familiar. “We have met before.”

“I don't remember you.”

“That's alright,” Ap'lek chuckled, his dark eyes glimmering with joy and warmth as if he was beyond happy to have found him, to be _talking_ to him.”We have all the time in the world to get to know each other once we're home.”

“Home?” he breathed, feeling weak-boned at the mere word, his entire being filled with longing and the need for comfort and support.

“Yes. _Home_. All this time, we have been waiting for you. And now I finally found you.”

Ben couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from curving upwards, his heart beating faster against his chest at the thought that there had been someone waiting for him. That he was welcomed somewhere, had a home-

He stilled.

“Who is 'we'?” he asked, feeling a bit dizzy as he stared at the hand lying on top of his, the caramel skin looking darker than it actually was against the paleness of his own.

“Your brothers.”

Brothers?

“ _Our_ brothers.”

**B̴̛̲̻̖͔̄̄̒̃̍̄͒ȓ̶̨̙̋̽͗͛̚ơ̶͖̍͂͛́̂̓͂̈́̈́̇͑ṯ̴͍̙͊h̷̘̗͐͒̋ͅe̵̛͕̽͆̔̍͛͂͌̾̃̕͘r̵̰̜̥̬̬̪̦̻̤̮̜͙̈́̊̌͆̿̊̅͛̚͝͝ṡ̷̨̡̖̣̬͚̗̟̝̓͗͌̂̽̑̚͜͝**

That word echoed inside his head, stirring a memory of hands holding him, pulling him up and supporting him, having his back. He felt safe. Understood.

His brothers were loyal to him, to a fault, their minds connected, helping him control the force whenever he felt like it was tearing him up from the inside. They looked up to him. Trusted him. Relied on him.

They would _die_ for him.

“Let's go home,” Ap'lek whispered, his voice soft and warm. They rose from their seats and he helped to keep Ben upright when he felt like his legs were giving way under his immense weight. “Cardo and Ushar are waiting on our ship.”

Letting his brother lead the way, Ben only focused on walking straight as he stumbled along – which was strange to him, though he couldn't quite remember why.

Ap'lek's arms were muscular and strong, surprisingly so given his height. In fact, he was rather short – Which also reminded him of something but whenever he tried to focus on it, the thought slid out of his reach, instantly forgotten.

“Trudgen will be ecstatic to see you,” Ap'lek told him, his aura radiating happiness and brotherly affection that felt both foreign to him ( _He was an only child, right?_ ) but also incredibly familiar ( _He had_ _ **chosen**_ _his brothers which made them all the more valuable_ ). “Kuruk will pretend not to care but secretly, he will be very happy.”

Ben had to laugh at that because that sounded a lot like Kuruk. He could already see him in front of his inner eye, sitting in the back, blue eyes looking at him with a bored expression before turning back to tinkering with his multi-barreled rifle as he feigned disinterest in the conversations around him when in truth, he was listening to every word they were saying.

“You will need to reign Vicrul in a bit, though,” his brother told him, his voice sounding a bit more serious. “His powers are out of control half the time. He almost killed Cardo a few weeks back and the poor guy spent an entire week inside a bacta tank.”

At that, he snorted, brows drawing together with displeasure.

“I told him that he needs to _focus_ ,” he huffed and Ap'lek positively beamed at him as though he had heard the best of news, his aura brimming with happiness.

“I know, Master,” he said, leading him to a shuttle park that felt strangely familiar, triggering an odd throb at the back of his head. “He will do better now that you're coming home.”

“Oh, he will,” Kylo said, his voice low and dark, like a promise. “I will make sure of that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I hope I won't be murdered in my sleep for this. I know this is the meanest way possible to end a chapter and it wasn't quite planned like that but I gave up on trying to reign my characters in.
> 
> Now, some background information to the chapter:  
> Every Knight that was mentioned actually exists in Canon. I know a lot of writers love to create their own knights and many of them include women, but I don't like OCs in fanfictions, so I stuck with the source material. They're all male and their outer appearance is based on what their actors look like underneath the mask. Ap'lek is played by a gorgeous stuntman of Asian descent and I struggled a lot with describing what he looked like without using 'racist descriptions' (Though I don't understand the issue people have with describing eyes as almond-shaped - My mother has Native American ancestry and our eyes are also typically almond-shaped, mine included.)  
> So, yeah, I probably did a bad job at giving you a picture of what he looks like, so you can just google Lukaz Leong lol
> 
> Was Ben drugged in this chapter? Yes. Did Ap'lek force control the bartender to put the drug in his drink? Absolutely. Did Ap'lek then fuck with Ben's brain through the force by digging out all of his fears and planting new ones? You can bet your bottom dollar lol
> 
> Btw. I chose Ap'lek for this chapter because he seemed the most likely knight to be able to manipulate Ben like that since his character description says this about him: "Unlike his fellow Knights, Ap'lek preferred deception over violence. He employed feints and misdirection to trap an opponent."  
> That's basically what he did here.


	19. Finally feel everything joining underneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The suffering mind is a vulnerable one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I'm very sorry that this chapter took me so freaking long. I rewrote it /three/ times and I think it's the first time in my life that I wrote something that I ended up loathing so badly that I don't even want to re-read it to try and rid it of spelling errors and the like. So, if there are more errors than usual, that's why.  
> It's fine until after the distorted 'Brother', I think. Everything that comes after is so fucking bad, I want to break my head by slamming it against a wall. But if I have to try and rewrite it again, I'm going to either go full Darth Tantrum and break my laptop or pull a Han Solo and abandon this whole thing - Which I /don't/ want to do since I love this story. So. Here it is. Please remind me to never try and introduce six fucking characters in one chapter ever again. It doesn't work. It's terrible. And I hate that I didn't even manage to make Ben consistently sound like a child - which he is here - but again, I can't even re-read this mess, let alone edit it.
> 
> SOOO, since everything after the distorted 'Brother' is nothing but a Knight's of Ren introduction (except for the short, last part), I want to offer everyone who doesn't care about them and just wants to read Kylux, to just skip all that shit and only read that first and last part. And those of you who wanted the Knights of Ren to be actual characters... I'm so sorry. I tried. I really did. I lost at least 20% of my fucking hair while trying. It's so bad. 
> 
> Armitage will be back next chapter! 
> 
> Please don't give up on me based on this cluster-fuck of a chapter.

Ben had just turned 6 when the dreams started.

The first time it happened, it had felt almost innocent in nature – That night, he had dreamt of lying in the snow, his body feeling a lot bigger than it really was, and yet he wasn't cold. It was a forest, he realised as he saw tall trees towering over him, the sky peeking behind the frozen leaves, pitch-black and star-sprinkled. The ground beneath him seemed to shake, but only a little. It reminded him of the miniscule rattle of the Millennium Falcon whenever he sat on his father's lap as he took him for a ride. Those were his favourite moments and, back then, he had been convinced that someday they were going to sit next to each other in the cockpit. Maybe, he would even fly himself and father would tell him he was ' _doing good, kid_ ' and ruffle his hair and squish him against his warm chest as a poor excuse for a hug, smelling like motor oil, cologne and _father_.

It was pleasant then, lying there, feeling warm and thinking about his father, about _Han Solo_ , the Legend.

Time and time again, it was the exact same scenario – Until he noticed that he couldn't move. His body wasn't reacting to his commands at all and he started to struggle against the invisible restraints, slowly beginning to panic – A sensation he had never known within the save walls of his home, following his father around like a shadow or sitting in mother's office, so he could watch her work. Sometimes, she let him sit in her lap and she would laugh when Ben would ruin her hair because he much preferred it when it was down instead of looking like cinnamon buns glued to her head. When he had told her, father had laughed so hard that his face had gone red while his mother looked affronted, but decided to settle on ' _It's not nice to make fun of people for their looks_ '. Ben hadn't meant to make fun of her. When she was gone, father told him that he had been thinking the exact same thing from the first moment he saw her but never _had the balls_ (whatever that meant) to say it out loud. The way he said it made Ben feel a little proud of himself but it also confused him because mother had looked sour and he didn't understand how that could be a good thing. That had been the worst sensation he had ever experienced up until that point – Confusion and guilt, and even more guilt for feeling a little proud when he knew he shouldn't.

So, Ben had never panicked in his entire life until that night when his parents had come rushing into his room, finding him screaming and crying as he trashed in his bed while in his dream, he could barely blink, his too-big body feeling heavy and numb.

Father didn't like Ben sleeping in their bed, something about ' _learning to be a man_ ' and balls turning blue. (He didn't understand that particular statement either.)

But that night, he had made an exception and Ben had cried as he lay between them, both their arms slung around him, his mother stroking his hair.

The next morning, he saw that his bedroom was ruined.

“Don't worry,” his mother had told him when he started to cry again, staring at his broken toys. “We will buy you new ones.”

(Back then, Ben hadn't noticed the slight tremor in her voice and the stony silence of his father. Now, thinking back, he wondered if at that moment they had already given up on him.)

The dreams didn't stop, nor did the screaming and trashing and the destruction of his room that got emptier by the week until he was left with the bare minimum of furniture, his toys locked away at night. They stopped letting him sleep in their room after barely a month since the dreams never came twice the same night. (He always cried himself back to sleep, feeling helpless and abandoned and so very alone.)

And the nightmares – because that's what they were – got worse over the following years.

Way worse.

The forest started to open up, trees bending to give him a clear view of the sky, littered with scarlet stars and he knew that something bad was about to happen, that something terrifying waited for him the next time, he would fall asleep.

And it did.

One night, he found himself back in that forest and above him were five planets, floating, far too close. For several terrible nights, he feared that they were going to come crashing down on him but that never happened. Instead, there was _red_ – So much _red_.

Unspeakable pain burst like flames inside his head, like the sound of billions of screams.

The planets were burning – cracking – collapsing in on themselves and then-

Silence.

Gone.

Ash fell from the sky like snow and Ben would wake up crying, his room wasted, his body trembling as well as the air around him. He had long since stopped shouting for his parents because he started to feel their unease whenever they saw the destruction, the helplessness as they held him and also their exhaustion. Ben was exhausting them by making them come to comfort him, it was especially evident in his mother when she sat in her office. She was frustrated when she couldn't focus, angry whenever her lids started to droop and irritated when Ben asked to sit in her lap.

“Please go, Ben,” she had told him one day, moving her arm away to get him to let go of the sleeve he had been tugging at. “Go play in the garden.”  
 _Go, Ben_ , was what he heard. _Go and stop bothering me_. _It's your fault I'm tired_.

He never went to her office again.

His father hadn't changed much in his conduct towards him since he had always mostly ignored him when Ben had tagged along with him and watched him work on a ship or a landspeeder or a bike. The silence had never bothered him before but it began to gnaw at him. So he started to talk and to ask questions and sometimes offered his help which his father always declined.

“When you're older, kid,” he had said. “I'll teach you then. Right now, you can't even tell the difference between a Flat bar and a Cat's paw.”

“I could if you showed me!”

“Not now, Ben,” father had snapped and Ben went quiet. “Go play or something.”

Go.

 _Go_.

 _ **Go**_.

“I can't go play because there is no one to play with me!” he shouted as his head started to feel hot and his hands began to tremble.

“Ask the nanny droid, she'll play _Scramball_ with you.”

“ _ **I don't want to play with a droid!**_ ”

Glass was shattering around them, tools went darting all over the room, leaving scratches on every vehicle around- There was a hiss and his father scrambled to his feet, grabbing Ben and dashing towards the door, just before something exploded and the earsplitting sound of an alarm went off. When his father stopped, panting, legs giving way under him, they tumbled unto the grass. The shouting started before the shaking did. Ben was sure that his arms would bruise from how hard his father was gripping him, shaking him, but he could hardly feel the pain, nor hear anything that was being yelled in his face. All he could see was his father's face – Flushed with anger, wide-eyed with fear, spitting as he shouted and shouted until his mother and a few servants got him off of Ben.

“You could have killed us!” he yelled, towering over Ben who was barely sitting up. “I don't want to see you inside my workshop _ever_ again, is that understood?!”  
Crying, he nodded.

It wasn't until his father hid his face behind his hands that he saw the bleeding scratches on his arms and the tears in his shirt. That was Ben's fault, too.

“C3PO will take you to your room,” mother said, her voice as shaky as her hands when she helped him stand up.

That night, he couldn't even fall asleep. All he saw was his father's angry face, the cuts on his arms, the tremble of his mother's lips.

_You could have killed us!_

Ben didn't do well with apologies. Contrary to what his mother believed, he knew perfectly well when he had done something that warranted one. He just didn't _like_ them. They made his stomach churn and his mouth taste sour, so he usually sulked until whatever he had done was eventually forgiven.

This time, though.

This time, he knew that he _had_ to apologise.

Knowing his parents, they were still up, so he got out of bed and went straight for their bedroom. Their voices could already be heard, even through the door. They sounded very unhappy. Taking a deep breath, he was about to knock when he heard this:

“...out of control. I told you to contact Luke weeks ago.”

“I tried! He's out there looking for Jedi artefacts, it's impossible to get a hold of him!”

“Can't you just do that mind thing? I thought you were connected!”

“I don't know how to actively open a channel, it was always him reaching out. And he hasn't done so in well over three years.”

“Then what do we do? So far, he has only thrown about with things but how long will it take until he seriously hurts someone? Look at my kriffing arms, he could have stabbed me in the eye with one of those screwdrivers!”

“He didn't do it on purpose-”

“Of course, he didn't! But what else is he going to do accidentality? Kill someone?”

“Han-”

“No, listen. You didn't see him there. You didn't see that look in his eyes before he kriffing wrecked my entire workshop.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that he ain't got that look from my side of the family, alright?”

“Are you- Did you just compare our _son_ with _Darth Vader_?”

“I compared him with _your_ _father_ , yes. Don't you remember how that beast threw people around with that force thing you people do?”

“ _We_ people?”

“Jedi or Sith or whatever the hell you would call a 9-Year old blowing up workshops by _being angry_!”

“You make him sound like a terrorist, Han. He's a _child_.”

“Don't pretend that you're not kriffing nervous around him since he started breaking entire rooms when throwing hissy fits.”

“I- I'm concerned, yes!”

“Concerned my ass, you went white as a sheet when you saw my arms. What the hell do we do with him? He clearly needs help that neither of us can provide because we don't know how to kriffing handle this force shit.”

“Oh, don't look at me like that, you nerfherder! I know I could have taken Luke up on his offer to train me properly. I didn't think I would _need_ it until now. And it's not like you insisted either.”

“Yeah, I know, it's too late to do anything about that. It's just... he's our son but that _look_ , Leia. That kriffing _look_ , I can't get it out of my head-”

“What _look_ , Han?”

“Listen, I've seen all sorts of monsters throughout my life – Including your father – and I had more people try to murder me than I care to remember, so believe me when I say that I know _**that**_ _look_.”

“Are you implying that Ben was _trying_ to murder you?”

“ _No_ \- No, I know that he didn't realise what he was doing! But that's the thing, Leia. He didn't think. He went with his gut instinct. And his gut instinct was _that_. Doesn't it remind you of a certain _someone_?”

“Stop bringing Vader into this conversation, Han, or I swear to God-”

“I know you like to pretend that he has nothing to with you, but I need you to accept that _maybe_ there's something in your bloodline that just skipped a generation. Shit like that can be hereditary, I've seen it a million times.”

“ _Ben isn't Darth Vader_!”

“Not yet, he isn't!”

“ _What the hell is that supposed to mean?_ ”

“It means that it is entirely possible that by the time he's grown up and _knows_ just how much power he has with that Skywalker blood, that- that he might _abuse_ it. That this _look_ and this gut reaction _is_ him. He always had a temper, even as a kriffing infant, but this is another level and he's already reached it at age _9_.”

“He's our son, Han.”

“I know he is. And I love him. But I'm afraid, Leia. I'm kriffing terrified that he's going to grow up to be a _monster_.”  
  


Needless to say, Ben never apologised.

And the nightmares continued to come but they changed every time – Not by much but enough to always make it feel different, keep him uncertain and afraid of what was to come. Every single dream ended with those planets dying in blazing red fire, though. But over time, his reaction to it changed. He came to expect the screams and the pain projected through the force – Probably from the people being blown up on those planets – and he just... blocked them. Forced them out of his head by sheer will power. Started to resent them for making him suffer with them. Started to get angry at them for making him destroy his room, for making him a _monster_ that his own parents were afraid of. Because he was certain that it had been the dreams that started all of it. (Or at least that was what he wanted to believe. He wasn't a monster. He _wasn't_.)

Ben always knew that Darth Vader had been a bad man though his name was rarely mentioned at home. His mother didn't like to talk about him but since overhearing his parents fighting, he knew that he had been his grandfather.

“What did Darth Vader do?” he asked one evening that he spent irritated and bored in the garden, plucking grass from the ground. “Everyone says he's evil but they never say why.”

“Oh, dear! What a question!”

“Just answer, C3PO.”

“If I must. Oh, well. Darth Vader was the apprentice and the right hand of Darth Sidious,” he explained but when he saw Ben's confused frown he quickly added: “Also known as Emperor Palpatine.”

“Ah. Okay. But what did he _do_?”

“Except murder an entire Jedi Temple, including the children, and millions of other people, you mean?”

“A Jedi Temple?”

“Yes, yes. A Jedi Temple. For Jedis.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Back then there were quite a lot of those! Or, well, at least compared to now. Thanks to Darth Vader, of course. He and the stormtroopers murdered them all.”

That... _did_ sound terrible.

“Oh.”

“But the worst thing he did, if only by proxy, in my humble opinion, was the destruction of Chandrila.”

“Chandrila?”

“Oh, yes, you wouldn't know it. Your mother used to spend a lot of time there when she was a child and her parents, the Organas that is, were there when the terrible deed was done.”

“Was it a house or-”

“Oh no!” C3PO interrupted him. “No, Chandrila was a planet, of course!”

 _A planet_.

“Are you feeling unwell, Prince Ben? You seem quite pale all of a sudden. Shall I call a-”

“No,” he interrupted, looking at his hand, covered in earth and bits and pieces of grass. “No, I'm fine.”

He wasn't.

When he found himself lying in snow once again, staring up at the sky and watching five planets burn and crumble to ashes, he wondered for the first time ever since the dreams started why they were being destroyed. Or rather, _who_ was destroying them.

_Did I do this?_

_**Yes.** _

He startled at the voice, a shiver running through his body as ash fell from the sky.

_Why?_

_**Because it is your destiny.** _

_**Jedi Killer.** _

_**The Destroyer of Worlds.** _

_**Heir apparent to Lord Vader.** _

_Who are you?_

_**I am your Master. And when the time comes, you will come to me.** _

_How do I know when it's time?_

_**Don't you worry about that, young Organa-Solo.** _

_**  
Your brothers will find you.** _

_I don't have brothers._

_**Ah, but you do. Not in blood, of course, but in spirit. Connected by the force. By the Prophecy of Ren.** _

Suddenly, he was overcome by the sensation of falling, his vision going black.

_**Open your eyes, apprentice.** _

_**Look upon your brothers.** _

_**.** _

_**.** _

**B̵̢̢͓͇̹̲̋̔͐͜ŗ̴̖̲̖̝̫̂͊̊͗͐͢͜͞ở̶̡̖̳̯͗̑̈́̍͢͝t̩̪̥̟̠̾̃͗͆͒͜͠ḧ̴̢̢̩̜̖̥̰̞̻͍́̑̋̐ę̶̪̲̜͈̫̥̠̙̽̓̋̎̽͑̇̏r͕̫̠̭͋̿̐̓͗͜ͅs̶̺͕̙̠̺̮͓̦̆͐͆̽̿͢͠͝**

_**.** _

_**.** _

He found himself standing inside a workshop that didn't look anything like his father's. This one was small, the tools were dirty, it stank of petrol and scorch and there was a lot of sand covering the stone floor. The sound of a sizzle made him turn around to see a young man using a welder, blue sparks bouncing off of the scratchy surface of his safety mask. With horror, he noticed that he wore gloves but that his muscular arms were naked as he only wore pants and boots and the dirtiest undershirt he had ever seen. His skin was littered with marks that at first glance looked like freckles, but seeing what he did, it was obvious that they were of a completely different nature.

Ben didn't know how long he had been standing there before he was noticed.

“Sithspit!” he cursed and then visibly panicked when he saw that he had scorched a weld onto the smooth surface of whatever machine he was working on. “Krong, krong, krong...!”

When the young man took off his safety mask, Ben realised that he wasn't, in fact, a young man. Despite the visible bulk on his arms and shoulders, it was very clear that he was a boy, no older than 14. Despite the sand indicating that they were probably on a desert planet, he seemed frighteningly pale, especially in contrast to his black, messy hair and the dark hazel of his eyes. The low-set brows made him look like he was scowling which made his actual scowl combined with the thin line of his lips and the flared nostrils seem almost terrifying.

“Who the krong are you?” the boy asked, rising from his crouched position and tightening his grip on the welder as if he was prepared to use it in case of an attack. He probably was.

“I wanted to ask _you_ that.”

“Why would you have to ask _me_? You're in _my_ weaponry.” A pause. “Or, well, my father's.”

“I don't know where I am,” Ben confessed, feeling uneasy, especially because he seemed so much taller than the boy in front of him. But that couldn't be right- He was a lot younger than him, after all. “What planet is this?”  
The boy stared at him as if he had gone insane.

“Tatooine,” he answered reluctantly but his tense shoulders relaxed a little bit. “You really don't know where you are? How did you even get in here? We're closed and I locked the door!”

When they both looked in the direction he was pointing at, the boy gaped when he saw that the door was indeed still locked, all 7 bolts untouched.

“I... don't know,” he said, feeling scared the longer this was going on. “I'm from Alderaan. I didn't go anywhere, I just... dreamt. And even in my dream, it didn't look like Tatooine. There was snow and the stars were red and-”

“Wait, what?” the boy interrupted him, looking even paler than before. “Did- did you see the planets?”

“The exploding ones?”

Hazel eyes widened and Ben realised what that meant immediately. Excited, he asked: “The dream – You've had it too?”

“Yes- Yes, for years,” he confirmed, nodding along, visibly elated though he didn't smile. “Did you see the man too?”

The man?

“What man?” Ben asked and the boy in front of him turned insecure all of a sudden.

“The man,” he repeated but this time, he sounded unsure. “The man with the mask.”

“Darth Vader?”

It was a stupid guess but Darth Vader was the only man with a mask that he knew of. Ever since finding out who he was, he had spent a lot of time reading about him on the holonet but despite all of the hours he put into thinking about him on a daily basis, he had never been part of any of his dreams.

“No, I don't think that was him. The mask looked different. And he wasn't wearing armour. More like... a habit. A monk's habit. Black and a bit scary.”

Ben shook his head, trying to imagine the person he was talking about but coming up empty.

“I didn't see him,” he said, feeling irrationally bad about it.

The boy deflated a bit.

“Oh.” His gaze flickered to the floor and then back up to Ben – Up, as if he was taller than him. I didn't make any sense. “Did you see anyone else then?”

“No, I'm always alone. The planets explode and I feel the people on them dying. I heard a voice, though.”

“What voice?”

“An old one,” he answered, thinking back on it and feeling uneasy. “It said that I did that. That I killed those planets. And that my brothers were going to get me someday.”

Realisation visibly dawned on the boy and he let his gaze swoop all over Ben, a glimmer in his eyes and a smile starting to tug on his lips.

“It's you,” he whispered before suddenly falling down on his knees, staring up at him in awe. “It's _you_.”

Ben's mouth opened to tell him that _no_ , _it couldn't be him_ and that he didn't warrant to be looked upon like that-

“Jaime, you useless rat! Who the krong are you talking to?” a booming, rough voice shouted from somewhere upstairs and before either of them could properly panic, Ben started to feel dizzy, like his body was evaporating.

“I'll find you!” the boy promised with a fierce whisper as he started to blur in front of him. “I'll find the others and then I'll find _you_ -”

A dark, tiny room materialised before him. For a second, it looked like a prison cell what with it's almost disturbing emptiness and the tiny barred window right underneath the ceiling. Dust danced in the air, rendered visible by a small ray of light shining in, which was both a beautiful and a terribly sad sight to behold. Especially once he saw the room's resident, sitting in a corner and staring at him out of maroon eyes. To his surprise, the boy looked utterly unbothered by the sudden appearance of a stranger in what he assumed was his room. There was merely a tilt of his unkempt head as he looked him up and down, appraising him.

“Have you come to pick me up?” the boy asked, playing with the hem of his loose, grey pants that looked like they hadn't been washed in years.

Ben shook his head.

The boy's shoulders immediately slumped in disappointment, his eyes glazing over with _emptiness_.

“He keeps saying that someone is going to pick me up,” he explained with the most emotionless voice he had ever heard. “But nobody's coming.”

“Who says that?”

“My Master,” the boy answered. “You know him, too. After all, it's you that he wants.”

The _voice_.

“Me?”

“Yes,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I know who you are. I can feel your Skywalker blood.”

Unease settled in his stomach, making his hair stand on end, especially when the boy rose to his thin, dark feet, his body almost skeletal in appearance. The white of his eyes was almost completely red and the purple shadow underneath them was disconcerting to say the least.

“I see them sometimes,” the boy whispered to him. “When I'm not in that forest with you. I can see them.”

“Who?”

“All of them. The mother-slave. The Chosen One. The Princess. The Last Jedi.” A pause. “The Jedi Killer.”

That was him.

The title made his blood freeze in his veins and he shook his head a bit, unwilling to accept it as his own. He was no killer, no monster- Ben would'nt- It wasn't right. It wasn't _right_.

“There is no right or wrong,” the boy said and he couldn't help but startle at having his thoughts read by somebody else – He had never been on the receiving end of that particular skill before. “No one can outrun destiny. It's branded into your soul. It's inevitable.”

“How would you know that?” Ben asked, his voice quiet and shaky, unwilling to believe what he was being told, though it was getting harder and harder.

“The force told me,” the boy said, blinking slowly. “It showed me what you will do. Who you're going to kill.” A pause. “They fear you. And they will be right to do so.”

“They?”

“The twins and the smuggler. You're going to kill them. You're going to kill them all.”

The blood in his veins suddenly ran cold once he grasped the meaning of those words- And then he saw it: _Flashes_.

Flashes of his father as he cradled his cheek while his other hand was curled around Ben's, trying to pry a lightsaber out of his hand.

 _Red light_.

His mother standing on the bridge of a ship, looking at him, looking _directly_ at him, even though he wasn't with her.

 _Red fire_.

His uncle, who he hadn't seen in years, sitting on a rock with his back to him. He can feel his exhaustion, his regret and the sadness as he stares at the setting sun. Ben knows it's his fault that his life is draining out of him as the force takes him, and with him, his body.

 _Red sunlight_.

Ben startles as the visions leave him and he stumbles backwards, shaking his head.

“No,” he whispers, horrified and afraid of _himself_ for the first time in his life. “No, I- I won't. I won't do that. They're my family.”

“Are they?”

_His mother looking at him with fear in her eyes, the smile on her face vapid and forced._

_His father shaking him, yelling, terrified._

_His uncle standing above him, his eyes crazed and red, his face illuminated by the green of his lightsaber as he prepares to strike him with it._

“I have seen the future,” the boy told him with a whisper. “I have seen who your true family is.”

_Six men dressed in black, their faces hidden underneath masks, one more frightening than the other. They're standing in a heptagon, hand in hand, their energies mingling. Familiar. Devoted. Safe._

_The presence of a being, powerful and wise, showing him the way, accepting the monster in him and helping him take control over it._

_The flash of red hair, a tall silhouette, a black Great Coat flattering in the wind, swirling around lean calves. Behind that figure, a weapon so colossal that he had thought it to be a planet at first glance._

Ben is shaking his head, violently, trying to get the pictures out of his head, and he gasps when they finally leave him be. He's collapsed and his surroundings are blurring, the sunken face of the boy barely perceptable.

“You will have accepted your fate when we meet again, brother.”

The next room he ended up in was almost as empty as the last but other than that, there was no similarity at all. It reminded him of the engine room on the Millennium Falcon but instead of an engine, there were two men strapped to interrogation racks. They both looked worse for wear, their faces bruised and their clothes in tatters. They looked like pirates or smugglers, not unlike to what his father had looked like before he married a princess.

The taller one was bald, his light skin flushed pink around the nose and his ears, blood dripping from his thin lower lip into his short, auburn beard. His eyes were closed and his breathing ragged in a way that made it obvious that he was napping rather than sleeping. His companion was awake, his kind of droopy looking honey-coloured eyes directed at Ben, blood smeared over his tan cheeks and dark beard, clumping a few strands of tousled brown hair.

“You another of those dark wizards?” he asked with a rough voice, a taunting grin grazing his pale, cracked lips.

“Not really,” Ben answered, looking down at himself for the first time and finding that he was wearing a long, black robe. His legs looked really long. “I'm a force user. But I don't belong to this ship.”

“Darth Asshole said the same,” the man sneered, clearly displeased with the answer. “Look mate, let us go or do us the favour of blasting our heads of our shoulders, we're completely useless to any of you.”

Ben drew his brows together, uncomprehending.

“Why are you here?” he asked, and then realised that he didn't even know where _here_ was. Before he could open his mouth to ask about their current location, the man was already answering: “Your ugly-ass bucket-brain-soldiers seem to think that we're one of those Resistance morons,” he scoffed, shaking his head a bit in disbelief. “We're just pirates, man. We don't know shit about the Resistance or what they're doing. We stole that X-Wing thing from some idiot taking a piss by the side of the road. That's all there is to it.”

Ben had no idea what the hell this man was talking about.

“Forget it, Ash, they won't listen,” the taller one rasped, lifting his head to glare at Ben out of slightly hooded blue eyes. “Vulpes could have picked the truth out of our heads if he wanted to. They don't crinking care.”

“I'm really not part of whatever this is,” Ben insisted, feeling both sympathetic to the battered men and annoyed at being treated like some evil person. “I don't know any _Darth Vulpes_.”

“So, you're not a First Order asshat?”

“No.”

“If you're not one of them, why the crink are you here?”

“I have nightmares,” Ben told them, feeling unsure whether or not one or both of them were his brothers. They looked old while the others had been children like him.

“Woe is you,” the man who was apparently called _Ash_ snorted, clearly on edge now.

They probably weren't.

“My brothers were supposed to be here,” he explained but that didn't seem to ring any bells either since the guy answered with: “I missed the part where that's our problem.”

“Yeah, we're kind of in a situation if you haven't noticed.”

Ben didn't know if he was supposed to help them. The voice had sent him directly to his brothers before, but maybe this time, he would need those men to get there. Taking a breath, he stared at the shackles of the interrogation racks, trying to focus in on them. Never before had he _consciously_ tried to break anything but there was nothing else he would be able to do to free them of their restraints.

When the shackles started to shake, the men began to panic a bit.

“The crink are you doing?” the bald one asked, just before both slumped to the ground as the metal gave under Ben's ministrations.

Ash was quicker to recover, gaping up at Ben as he sat up.

“That was-” he started but then shook his head. “Thanks, mate.”

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Do you think you can do the same with the door?”

“If you help me find my brother, yes,” Ben demanded, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Sure, we'll do that,” Ash said with a charming smile that told him that they definitely weren't going to help him at all. But Ben had to open the door either way since he couldn't just _stay_ here.

Sighing, he turned to the door and _focused_.

The metal creaked miserably as it began to look more like a crumpled piece of paper than a door.

“I'll be damned,” the bold one whispered, clearly impressed. Then, to Ben's surprise, he turned towards him. “Come on. Let's get your brother.”

Relieved and thankful, Ben wanted to follow them as they headed for the door-

“Hey, wizard-” Ash shouted in alarm, both pirates running back to him, clearly with the intention to haul him back on his feet as Ben staggered and fell, his vision going blurry.

His time here was over which meant-

“It's one of you,” he whispered, right before he disappeared, making them grab for air.

When he next came to, he was surrounded by men in dark grey military uniforms. He startled violently and his heart skipped at least three beats before he noticed that no one was batting an eye at him. At all. One man made a beeline for him, or so he thought, until he noticed that he was looking through him and had no intention to move around Ben any time soon. Quickly, he stepped aside, though he suspected that he probably would have walked right through him.

It wasn't a military base, Ben realised, the second a door opened, revealing a stark white and empty simulation room as a young man with blond, slicked-back hair and a teal-coloured uniform emerged. Their eyes met for a second and he frowned before tearing his gaze away from Ben to turn to one of the older men.

“51 minutes,” the officer said with a satisfied look on his face. “Good job, Cadet Bjoorn. Your aiming and timing is as excellent as ever. If you'd taken Path 3 in Sector HU-7 instead of 9, you might have saved yourself a few minutes and kicked that bastard ginger of his throne. Oh, well. As it is, your status as a dux graduate is secure.”

“Thank you, Captain,” the young man said, visibly suppressing a proud smile and forcing his face into neutrality.

“Another thing, Cadet. Have you decided on a ship yet?”

“I thought about joining the _Sternweiler_ crew,” he answered, his voice confident and stern, making him seem a lot older than he looked.

“Quite an ambitious choice,” the Captain said, clicking his tongue. “Maybe even over-ambitious.”

“Why?” the young man asked immediately, brows drawing together, pale sharp cheekbones flushing slightly with offence. “Cadet Hux was accepted last year, too.”

“He was, yes,” the Captain hummed. “Even skipped an entire rank. But he had several advantages that you haven't: His father was a well-respected Admiral at the time. He graduated as a dux in not one but four subjects. Furthermore, he applied as an engineer and not as a sniper. Brains fit to make weapons are far more valuable nowadays than those who use them.” A huff. “But the thing that sealed the deal was the fact that underneath all of that composure, the boy's hiding a rabid cur. Every ship needs one of those when shit really hits the fan.”

The cadet remained silent for a moment, his thin pinkish lips pressed into a line, making his long nose look even sharper as his nostrils flared a bit.

“I see,” was all he said. “Then I will have to consider other options.”

The Captain nodded and, with a salute, the blond prissy-looking cadet turned on his heel to leave the room. As he walked past him, he frowned again, looking him up and down. Ben waited only a moment once he was gone before following him into a corridor where, as he suspected, several people ran straight through him. When the guy reached a door, he turned sharply, snarling: “Who are you and why are you following me?”

Ben made a face, unhappy about being talked to like that but telling himself that he would react similarly if some stranger was following him to his room.

“If you ever dreamt of a man in a mask and five planets being obliterated, you should know who I am.”

The young man's already pale face blanched even further.

“Oh,” he said, almost timidly now, and then let him in. Even when the door closed, he didn't relax at all, instead, he straightened as if standing to attention in front of an officer.

“If I may be frank, Sir, I didn't think any of that was... real.”

Ben almost cringed at being called 'Sir' but something told him that treating him like a superior helped the visibly shaken guy to feel like he had a semblance of control over the situation.

“Me neither,” Ben confessed as he looked around, noticing how very neat and devoid of personality the room was. “But the voice wanted me to meet you and the others. So, here I am.”

“You say the word, Sir, and I will offer my services immediately,” he was quick to proclaim, chin held high. “I am an excellent sniper, I will not disappoint you.”

“Do you know that you're force-sensitive?”

He visibly deflated.

“What?”

“You must be,” Ben explained even though, he hardly understood it himself. “The others, too.”

“I... can't say I noticed, Sir.”

Ben nodded, unsure what he was supposed to say to that.

“It's not time yet, I don't think,” he said and felt bad at the disappointed look on the other man's face. But Ben was still a child, even if his current form apparently wasn't. He didn't even know if these visits were actually time-consistent. If they weren't, it would explain why the boy in the cell had been barely older than Ben while the pirates had both been at least a decade older if not more.

“I'll wait then,” the man promised and this time, Ben expected the blurring of his vision. “I'll wait.”

It was Coruscant – He recognized it immediately, if only because of the Galactic Senate building not far from where he was standing. The smog was as heavy as the last time he had been there to accompany his mother to an emergency meeting after a short holiday on Naboo. A smog, thick enough to not notice the figure clothed in a grey cloak, slithering his way through the masses, clearly pick-pocketing as he did so. Ben was already half-way on his way to him when a tall woman grabbed the cloaked figure by the arm, scowling and asking him _what the kriff he thought he was doing_. The thief removed his hood, revealing a young, handsome face with almond shaped eyes and caramel skin. His full lips stretched into a charming smile when he answered: “I didn't do anything, Ma'am, but hurry to get to work.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes as fogged as the Coruscanti street, before she let go of him, mumbling something under her breath and then walking away as if she had never stopped. The thief had obviously grabbed her purse as she turned and was now stowing it away underneath his cloak. When he looked up, he noticed Ben staring at him.

Another charming smile – Before he started running.

Ben huffed a laugh before going after him, feeling grateful for his adult form as his legs were long enough to make it pitifully easy to catch up with the boy. Before he could reach for him, however, he suddenly stopped, whirled around and pointed a gun at his face.

“One wrong move and I'll blast your head off,” the boy snarled, all charm gone, his hand frighteningly steady. He had obviously killed before.

“I'm not here to hurt you,” Ben promised but obeyed nonetheless, standing perfectly still. “Nice mind trick by the way.”

“Nice _what_?”

The boy seemed taken aback for a second, caught off-guard, but quickly recovered as he hissed: “I have no idea what you're talking about. Leave, or I'll kill you.”

“What you did,” Ben explained. “With the woman. It's a Jedi mind trick. My parents loved telling the story of my uncle trying to do that to Jabba The Hut.”

From the way the boy was staring at him, he had no idea what the kriff he was talking about. That was to be expected, he guessed, since it was obvious that he was living on the streets.

“Did you say _Jedi_?”

Ben nodded and, to his relief, the boy lowered his gun. Though, he didn't stop watching him like a hawk, body tense as if in preparation to attack if necessary.

“You're the second one I meet who is at least somewhat aware of what can be done with the force,” Ben realised, thinking back on the boy in the cell who had obviously a gift for visions. Everyone else he had met so far seemed completely oblivious to the fact that they had to be force-sensitive to some degree. Maybe it simply wasn't much.

“I'm not a Jedi,” the boy snorted, the grip on his gun tightening as he clearly struggled to decide whether or not to trust that Ben wasn't going to murder him and steal his surely impressive collections of purses.

“No,” Ben agreed. “But you're an intuitive force-user.”

“Who are you?”

“The man with the mask,” he told him, enjoying how dramatic it sounded. He was a Skywalker, after all.

Recognition brightened up his entire face, wary eyes making way for a hopeful glimmer.

“Brother?”

Ben nodded and flinched when the boy wanted to hug him but recoiled once he saw his hand disappear into him. He hadn't felt it at all but it was strange to see someone else's body parts reaching finding only air instead of touching him.

“I'm not really here,” he told him, not without regret. “He only allowed me to see you all.”

“So, it hasn't begun.”

“No.”

He deflated a bit but quickly recovered.

“But we'll meet again?” he asked and Ben couldn't help but smile a little bit at the hopefulness in his voice. He wasn't used to people _wanting_ to see him at all. They usually avoided him whenever he could. It has been like that for years.

“Yes,” Ben promised, feeling incredibly sad once he felt his body dematerialising once again. “I promise.”  
  


Kylo entered the small ship, leaning heavily on Ap'lek to not fall over. Two figures rose from their seats, their attention instantly trained on their Master, their _brother_.

Even though their faces were obscured by masks, he recognised their respective force signatures, stunted as they were, immediately as they welcomed him without hesitation once he reached out to them, letting him touch their minds.

“Cardo,” he greeted the one on the left - A tall, clearly strong man clad in black loose trousers, a tunic and a long Riftiaworm-hide coat that pooled around him when he bend the knee for him. His mind was potent, pungent in its bitterness and yet incredibly vulnerable as he laid himself bare for him, letting him feel the fear, awe and hope upon seeing him. Kylo knew exactly what he looked like underneath those layers, remembered the hazel of his eyes and the burn marks on his arms that looked like red freckles on his strangely pale skin.

Pleased, he turned to the shorter, stockier figure, the corner of his lip curling upwards when he saw that he was still wearing his old helmet – The partially crumbled one, the damage right where his mouth was, courtesy of a particularly feisty prisoner. The attack had been a gutsy move which the Knight had honoured by granting the man a quick death – and apparently by keeping the evidence of his bravery.

“Ushar.”

He, too, bend the knee upon hearing his name which made the impressive collection of weapons strapped to his body clink at the impact, head bowed deeply. Ushar's mind felt like sizzling fire, dazzling in its brightness but also incredibly volatile – All of that, only just contained underneath an armour of training and discipline that had come too late in life to be anything but unstable. It was still a far cry from the mouthy pirate with the wild brown hair who had called him _a wizard_ and had seemed to want to go through with his promise to help him find his brother despite everything – Unknowing, that it had been him, he had been looking for.

“Master,” they said in sync, their voices distorted by their helmets, the room brimming with elation, trust, and respect.

“Rise, brothers,” Kylo told them and they obeyed, drawing themselves back up to their full height. He turned to Ap'lek who looked strangely naked without his own helmet, oiled cloak and gauntlets as he stood next to him, dutiful, keeping him steady. “Contact the others. Tell them Rendezvous-point is _Moraband_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Knights of Ren in order of appearance in this chapter:  
> Cardo, Vicrul, Trudgen&Ushar, Kuruk, Ap'lek.
> 
> Funfacts about this chapter:  
> Cardo is an enthusiastic gunsmith in Canon, so I figured him slaving away in his abusive father's weaponry would make sense. He's not allowed to leave the weaponry which explains his pale skin despite living on Tatooine.  
> Vicrul is locked away, too, though it's because that fucker is dangerous af. He's already killed other children more or less on accident at this point. And don't take his 'visions' too seriously.  
> I threw Ushar&Trudgen together cause the mere thought of writing one more Ben-meet-Knight-thing made me want to break my own neck.  
> Kuruk is Arkanian and graduated at the Academy a year after Armitage did, shortly after Hux Senior usurped the throne. Ben obviously doesn't recognise the name yet.  
> Ap'lek is the same manipulative bastard back then that he is now lol
> 
> And feel free to guess who tf Darth Vulpes is. Just a tip: He's not alive anymore by the time Ben is knighted.


	20. Creep up inside you and consume you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget! The Knights are always in this order: Cardo, Vicrul, Trudgen, Ushar, Kuruk, Al'pek.  
> Have fun!

Copper sand twirled around golden mountain peaks to eat away at the rocks standing high and proud, like flames frozen in place, reaching up to the clouds as they parted. A dark ship emerged, entering the planet's atmosphere to join the two others already waiting in midst of the baleful, barren wasteland, their silhouettes merely dark flecks mostly obscured by plumes of sand floating across the dreary planes of the desert. Three men, shrouded in black robes and armour, stood unmoving and silent, their masked faces turned towards the crimson sky, watching the approaching vessel descend. Sand blew up as the ship debarked, the landing smooth and controlled, its precision giving the identity of the pilot away.

Kylo shut all the systems off before he left the cockpit since they wouldn't be in need of it once they all boarded their flagship, the _Night Buzzard_.

“Are you ready, Master?” Ap'lek asked, his voice barely recognisable through the voice modulator of his mask that was crude and menacing in its design, like an ogreish rictus. Kylo nodded but before he could activate the door opener, he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

“To protect your skin and lungs,” Cardo said as he offered him a hooded shawl and a respirator to cover his mouth with. “The sand storms are pretty rough, this time of day.”

Nodding in thanks and sending him his gratitude through the force, he accepted both and swiftly put them on, unbothered by their battered states. Pleasure and protectiveness wafted through their bond as Cardo watched him, making Kylo's heart soar within his chest.

The sound of his breath was loud and heavy through the respirator, reminding him of the tales about his grandfather, about the mask he wore to breathe. Pulling the hood as far down as possible without impairing his sight too much, all in an effort to protect his naked eyes, he let the door open. Its hiss was almost drowned out by the sound of the wind as it sighed, blowing sand against their bodies as the four of them disembarked.

Vicrul, Trudgen and Kuruk stood unmoving in front of the Night Buzzard, tall and frightening, the black of their clothes already begrimed with coppery dust. Their force signatures pulsated as Kylo came closer and they all reached for him as he did for them, seeking to get a taste of each other's souls.

“Master,” all three of them said, bending their knees as Cardo and Ushar had done in a show of respect and obedience.

“Stand up.”

They did.

“Our long lost brother has finally found his way home,” Ap'lek proclaimed as he came to a halt next to his Master, causing a wave of pride, love and elation to ripple through the force around them. “The prophecy of _Ren_ has been fulfilled.”

“Not quite, no,” Trudgen objected, shaking his head a little bit. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

“We are but a step closer,” Kuruk agreed. “Our vision has yet to happen.”

“He is right,” Kylo said as he stepped closer, the sand giving way underneath his boots. “We need to connect our minds – With each other and the Dark inside us. That's why we're here.”

“I did wonder why you chose this shithole,” Ushar said, the modulator depriving his voice of any emotion but his mind clearly radiated amusement and also slight annoyance at the unpleasantness of the desert heat.

“This planet used to be _Korriban_ ,” Kuruk explained, ever the swot, with a hint of exasperation and displeasure at his brother's ignorance and vulgar wording. “The home of the ancient Sith.”

“We're not Siths, though.”

“No, we're not,” Kylo agreed, thoroughly amused by the discussion and feeling incredibly fond of both of them. “We are above such titles. They're archaic. As is the Code of the Sith.”

“And yet here we are,” Ushar deadpanned, his voice modulator only adding to the comedic effect, reaching for his shawl to give it a shake in an attempt to get rid of the sand stuck inside the folds. “Instead of, I don't know, _Maridun_ or something. No sand, just one sun and lots of green.”

“Are you quite done with your whining?” Cardo sighed, his urge to throttle his brother quite tangible in the force.

“Just giving incentives.”

“ _Moraband_ has a unique connection to the Dark Side of the force,” Kylo continued as if he had never been interrupted at all but with a little more authority to make them shut up. “It will aid us in our bonding.”

When he took off his gloves and reached for his brothers with his mortal hands, they didn't hesitate to take them – Trudgen his left and Ap'lek his right one. Once they stood in a perfect heptagon, fingers and palms connecting their bared flesh and therefore strengthening their mental ties, he took a deep breath. With closed eyes, they could feel their respective force signatures melt underneath their combined heat, borders blurring, reaching out for each other to blend, unite, to become one.

Memories started to emerge as their pasts intertwined, the sand chafing against their clothes and skin, disappearing as their souls left their bodies to fall into one another.

Two suns over the Tatooine desert, faraway neon lights mocking the resident's of the Coruscanti slums, the stale air of a pirate ship, the smell of rain falling from grey clouds upon Wyttersmoon, the smog of the City of Spires and salt-tasting winds howling over Ahch-To's green mountainscape.

A young, ebony skinned girl with the most graceful side-profile, throwing them secretive smiles and longing gazes, her father haggling with theirs. They felt dirty, covered with motor oil and sweat, and intimidated by the beauty of her large, chocolate-coloured eyes, the lushness of her lips. They felt even paler than usual when she stood in front of them, hidden behind a broken ship, but the contrast of their intertwined fingers had its appeal. Her lips were the softest thing they had felt in their entire lives. They forever resented their father for locking them away like this when they saw her with a handsome man, much older now, her gaze sad and her smile nostalgic as they tried to listen to her husband's words, explaining his landspeeder's defects. They never saw her again.

They never loved anyone.

Her skin was of a pale rose-pink, her long, dark eyes glittering with mischief, her almost knee-long lekkus lying over her shoulders like hair – She was exotic and petite and dizzyingly beautiful, and they never regretted risking their life when they stole her from her owner. It had been their intention to free her but when she wanted to stay not even their best friend could change their mind as they put a ring on her graceful finger. Their crew mates said she was used up, fucked loose and worthless, and they slit more than one throat, making those bastards spill blood instead of venom. She was fierce and loyal and she loved them – They never regretted taking her with them, but they would forever regret making her love them enough to take a blaster for them. They still wore her ring on a necklace around their neck.

She was freakishly tall and bulky, the sickly green colour of her skin common for a Tof and her long grey hair braided. They loved watching her fight, muscles rippling like a true shield maiden, her braid tossed in every direction with every slow but powerful move. They fell in love with her when she emptied half a barrel of Mandalorian ale and still managed to hack three men to pieces right after. She laughed at the crudest of jokes and shoved them into a wall whenever complimented. Fucking her felt like a fistfight that they always ended up losing, overpowered by a goddess of seven foot something. Her betrayal was painful but to be expected and even now they couldn't bring themselves to hate her for leaving him and his friend behind to be taken captive by a bunch of bucket-heads. Her opportunism and ruthlessness had been part of the charm, after all.

They never understood why she was friends with the General's bastard, following the snobby beanstalk like a shadow, always prepared to fight whoever dared to come close. But her stony devotion and love-fuelled strength was what made his knees go weak at the very sight of her. When Cadet Rue called her a _beastly giantess_ in the men's locker room, they broke his nose. It was true that she wasn't of a typical kind of beauty with her almost masculine frame, asymmetric face, short blonde hair and the brutish pinch of her eyebrows. The only objectively stunning feature of her face were her eyes – Icy blue, as pale and lovely as the feathery lashes framing them. It wasn't about her looks, though. She had something much better, much more valuable to offer – Bryanne Phasma was a living paradox. Gentle and rough, loving and cold, feminine and masculine, body-focused and intelligent. They wanted to apply for the Sternweiler to remain close, to not lose something that they never got to have. They would forever resent the ginger bastard for taking her with him because they were convinced that she wouldn't have made it to that ship either if it hadn't been for him. But, above all, he resented himself for never talking to her.

He was a fellow orphan and thief with ashy hair, dark thick eyebrows and green, round eyes, one of which looked like a half-moon because of its hoodedness that got worse as he grew up. The scar of his cleft palate made him look roguish combined with his strong jaw, perfectly straight nose and sharp cheekbones. He wasn't quite as manipulative or quick-witted as they were but he was charming and clever when it mattered. As they got older and their carnal desires developed, they always thought themselves lucky to lose their virginity to a partner in crime who was handsome and funny and took good care of them, during and after. They stole, scammed, cheated and fucked for three years until a particularly angry gambler shot him right in the head, leaving a hole where his hooded eye used to be. They haven't fucked anyone since.

They never really thought about girls, not seriously at least, despite being the only Padawan who didn't have to stay chaste by the time those urges started to surface. Being engaged to a man probably did that to someone, even if they hadn't seen said man for years and dreaded the day they had to face him in front of the altar. When they started to masturbate, it was always him on their mind – But they were never romantic or sensual fantasies. Mostly, they fantasized about being a handsome, masculine adult who manhandled and fucked their stuck-up, elegant spouse so brutal and so _good_ that they left him a begging mess, deprived of his pride and regal posture. Their fiancé would be disgusted if he knew but they disgusted him as a person entirely anyway, so that particular thought didn't stop them from jerking off to those fantasies night after night. It wasn't until that girl from Jakku was brought to the temple, smiling at them and touching them all the time, that they even considered sleeping with the opposite sex. It was a strange thought at first since she seemed so fragile with her petite figure but as they grew closer, they started to desire her small body, the little swells of breasts, the delicacy of her features. When they finally got to bed her, she was tight and soft and receptive. They didn't have to break her, overpower her, force her into wanting them – _She_ had pursued _them_. Sex with her made them feel like the dream version of themselves: Handsome, manly and mature. She made them feel loved and cherished and they cared for her as well. They told themselves that they loved her and for a while they believed it, too. It was an illusion. Wishful thinking. They realised that when they noticed that his face had haunted them for 9 years after parting ways while hers felt like a distant memory in a matter of weeks.

Their father abused them, enslaved them, made them work and beat them when they made mistakes or didn't go fast enough.

Their father was unknown.

Their father sold them when they were a child to rid himself of his own gambling debts.

Their father eloped with a younger woman before they were even born, leaving their pregnant mother and his 6 other children behind.

Their father was a petty officer with no power and little love for him but a lot of expectations.

Their father was killed alongside their mother and little sister.

Their father abandoned them to be raised by another.

After seeing their brother for the first time, they decided that their life needed to change and it needed to change now. So, when their father descended the stairs, shouting, they were waiting for him with the welding machine. Using the force instinctively, they held him in place when they first burned his eyes and then shoved the welder down his throat before powering it on again.

The playground in the Coruscanti slum was muddy and old and the children didn't like them because they were too quiet. One girl in particular, pretty with stupid pigtails, enjoyed calling them names or throwing things at them. One evening, she mocked the length of his face, called their mother a nerffucker, laughing, _laughing_ , _**laughing**_. Until she didn't. The other children ran away when her face turned blue. By the time they let her go, there were men manhandling them away from the corpse.

They fled the _Finalizer_ by forcing their way into a rescue shuttle – It had taken both of their efforts, trying what they had seen their saviour do before he disappeared after proclaiming that one of them was his brother. Turns out, they both were.

They had been using the force for years without being aware of it. It wasn't until his brother's visit that they realised that the reason they could easily take out their targets, no matter how small, how far away, how fast and hidden, was due to instinctively relying on the force to tell them where to point and when to shoot. The fact that they still couldn't beat the General's bastard's record, frustrated them even more.

Thanks to their brother, they now had a name for their affinity for persuasion: Jedi mindtrick.

They didn't remember when they first used the force. Maybe they hadn't even been born then.

Darth Vulpes picked them up in a bar on Tatooine.

Darth Vulpes sent their brother to get them.

Darth Vulpes chased them for three months before recapturing them. Recruitment took a little convincing.

Darth Vulpes came with an offer when the _Sternweiler_ rejected their application.

Darth Vulpes offered a roof over their head.

Supreme Leader Snoke sent their brothers to free them.

In their vision, they were kneeling with their brothers in front of their Master, the sky burning above them, their heart filled with love and gratitude and a sense of belonging.

In their vision, they were kneeling with their brothers in front of their Master, the sky burning above them, their heart filled with love and gratitude and a sense of belonging.

In their vision, they were kneeling with their brothers in front of their Master, the sky burning above them, their heart filled with love and gratitude and a sense of belonging.

In their vision, they were kneeling with their brothers in front of their Master, the sky burning above them, their heart filled with love and gratitude and a sense of belonging.

In their vision, they were kneeling with their brothers in front of their Master, the sky burning above them, their heart filled with love and gratitude and a sense of belonging.

In their vision, they were kneeling with their brothers in front of their Master, the sky burning above them, their heart filled with love and gratitude and a sense of belonging.

In their vision, their brothers were kneeling in front of them, the sky burning above them, their heart filled with love and pride and a sense of belonging.

Six souls approached the wild, beautiful, scared thing that was their brother, letting themselves be sucked in, sloting into place, hugging him, encompassing him, adjusting and merging until they were not only shielding him, containing him, but also _melting_ _into him_.

The emptiness was filled, the voices silenced, the rage calmed, the chaos righted.

They were but one soul.

They were _Ren_.

_**They were-** _

Unspeakable pain went through Ren's body, their entity collapsing as one soul was ripped from them like a limb-

_Kuruk_

-and another-

_Cardo_

-and another-

_Al'pek_

-and another-

_Ushar_

-and another-

_Trudgen_

Before Vicrul went down, he whispered one word: S̵͉͎̘̮͎͛͑̑̐͋̿̈́̃͝͝t̸̯̠͙̪̣̯͌͊͆̽̓͗̄͛̓a̶̧̢̖̩̤̥̫̪̲̯̋͒ŗ̴̨̢̗̪̟̤̇̕ķ̸̲̤͓̲͇̔̋̀̄̉̏̔͂͘͝ī̶̛͕̻̗̣̩̙̪͚̺͂̿͑̎̚l̸͚̭̭͕̳̦̈͑̄̕ḷ̶̢͕̟͓̼͗ḛ̸̦͈͎̻̇̓̅̿͛r̴̨̮̥͇͋̀̈́͠

-and the last one.

_Vicrul_

Kylo was left bare and vulnerable, screaming at the unbearable agony of being torn apart, the edges of all that was him frayed and bleeding. His soul erupted, spilling over where he had been contained, the broken pieces his brothers had held in place falling apart.

His body had fallen to its knees as it blindly felt for his lifeless brothers, their force signatures not gone but dimmed and out of reach. Carding through sand, he found a limp leg, his vision blurred to the point of barely making out the black figures in midst of planes of red. He crawled closer when he felt that it was Cardo, desperately needing his iron strength and resilience but finding that it was impossible to connect, even when he crawled closer, cradling his brother's limp body as he pressed his forehead against the metal of his mask.

A voice penetrated the sound of his own wailing and suddenly, Kylo went very still. When he turned towards where the sound had come from, he saw the blurry silhouette of something humanoid, approaching him, clearly struggling against the wind, the sandy ground giving way at every step, making its footing wobbly at best.

“Ben!” the voice shouted and Kylo tried to feel through to force to find out what that humanoid is and if its dangerous – if its responsible for his brothers' condition.

Nothing.

No aura.

Mind blocked.

An enemy then.

It was hard to focus with his mind still bleeding, trashing about and desperately searching for the pillars it had been robbed of, but he managed to shakily get back on his feet.

“Ben, are you-”

The figure – it was a male human, Kylo realised when it came closer – was tall and lean, half his face hidden underneath a scarf, fiery hair windswept and already matted with sand. And he held a weapon in his hand: A rifle.

Kylo immediately drew his lightsaber, activating it, prompting the man to falter and stumble backwards in surprise. Rage made him almost go blind, rushing through his veins, making him dizzy with its intensity as he started to stalk closer, fully intending to kill the fool that had dared to _hurt his brothers_.

“Ben!” the voice yelled again and Kylo could sense two other beings closing in, brimming with fear and dread already. “Do you not recognise me?”

The man ripped the scarf from his face and-

Kylo faltered, the dizziness getting worse, feeling confused and disoriented as he stared at the beautiful and familiar features of someone he might have once seen in a dream. The stranger took his hesitation as a sign that he could stand up without being attacked, leaving the rifle lying by his feet and keeping his gloved hands raised, palms turned to Kylo in a gesture of surrender. Somewhere behind him, two other men were approaching but they stopped moving the second he looked at them.

“Neither of you is to come closer,” the man shouted, his words obviously directed at the strangers even though his eyes never left Kylo's face. “I will talk to Ben.”

“That's not my name,” he growled, hating the sound of it, feeling the anger return as he tightened his grip on his lightsaber. “Who are you?”

The question seemed to confuse the man for a second but he quickly recovered, jaw tightening for a moment.

“Armitage,” he said with conviction as if it was supposed to ring a bell with him. Admittedly, it did sound familiar but the emotions it elicited were all over the place, confusing and maddening and frustrating. “I'm your husband-”

“I don't know you,” Kylo interrupted him with a snarl, feeling his heart convulse at the word _husband_. “You shot my brothers.”

“Tranquillized them,” he immediately corrected, wetting his lips, making Kylo's eyes dart to that red mouth for a second. The phantom taste of wine, brandy and another person's spit made him feel dizzy again. “I assure you, they are fine. They are merely sleeping.”

Kylo's fuzzy mind reached out to them again, checking if their force signatures were still there – They were. Not dead then. It made him feel their absence once again, the frayed edges of his soul aching like torn nerve ends.

“Ben-” the man started again, the name triggering a powerful wave of hatred, bitterness and resentment.

“ _That's not my name_ ,” he yelled, raising his saber to cut the stranger down-

It was blue.

It wasn't supposed to be blue.

His lightsaber was red and unstable, he had bled the Kyber Crystal out, making it crack in the process, right after escaping Luke's attempt to murder him, after killing the Padawans that stood in his way- And yet, here it was. It was his, he recognised the hilt, but the Kyber Crystal was intact and _blue_.

His head was spinning and he swayed where he stood, letting the lightsaber go as if he had burnt himself on it.

“Ben-”

The man had stepped closer and Kylo reeled back, sneering.

“ _I don't know you_ ,” he snarled, trembling as panic started to take over his body. “ _I can't even **feel** you_.”

A beat of silence.

No one moved.

That beautiful face fell a little bit, its sharp and delicate features softening into an expression of surrender and then hardening into one of determination.

An onslaught of emotion, so intense that it hit Kylo like a punch to the gut, thoughts so loud and clear that they drowned out all of his own, an aura so striking and unique, attracting him like a moth to the light.

_Remember me_

Desperation and helplessness accompanied that thought, washing over him as if it was his own, only overshadowed by pure, paralysing _fear_. For a moment, it angered him- He said, he was his husband and yet, he was afraid of him? Like everyone else, all this man can see is a monster-

_Ben_

No. No, he recognised that feeling.

“ _I'm not afraid of you, Ben_ ,” Luke had said to him, a lifetime ago, his eyes so blue and so kind – Not blood-shot, not crazed, no green light illuminating his face. “ _I'm afraid_ _ **for**_ _you. That's different_.”

Armitage – Yes, that actually _was_ his name – was afraid _for_ him.

Afraid of losing him because he had been a selfish coward.

Afraid of not being important enough to be remembered.

Afraid of being vulnerable, laid bare before him.

Afraid of being rejected.

Afraid of loving him.

Kylo didn't move when Armitage made a single step towards him, the fear both intensifying and yet making way for something else entirely. Something like hope. Unmoving, he stared at that familiar face, the pale skin already reddened with sunburn, sand caught in his hair, his eyebrows, his pale lashes. The hands that had been raised in a show of surrender slowly reached out to him, grasping the respirator and taking it off of him. It hit the sand soundlessly.

Pale eyes watched him, taking him in. He didn't know what it was that he was looking for but it seemed like whatever it was had been found. Red, dry lips curled into the tiniest of smiles and the fear emitting from him dissipated, replaced by affection and a longing so intense that it made his legs go weak.

“There you are,” Armitage whispered like a secret, hands hovering between them as if he wanted to touch him but didn't know if his touch was wanted. He didn't know if he wanted to be touched himself. “Ben-”

In the end, it didn't matter what he wanted or not, because Armitage immediately went to catch him when Ben lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Armitage to the rescue!


	21. I don't even know what's real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is always Armitage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, peoples! Germany decided that schools and cinemas should be closed, so I have literally nothing to do all day but to write haha I finished some stuff that I had wanted to do for a while, but now I'm free to finish this story in a nice pace. And, I have to tell you that we are coming closer to the end! I can't say how many chapters will follow, but my guess would be that the 30th chapter might be the last.  
> I hope you enjoy!

_The moment you split your soul into Ben Solo and another, you lose a part of yourself_.

Luke had told him that 5 years ago, like a prophecy that he hoped wouldn't come true.

He hadn't told him that it would hurt this much.

Nothing in his head made sense anymore and he wasn't even quite sure who he was or what he had done to be put him into this kind of agony. While he felt like he hadn't been properly awake for days (Not even two hours had passed, he came to learn later.), he was simultaneously deprived of any sort of rest since regaining consciousness for approximately 5 seconds when he had been laid on a bunk bed. Instead, his mind kept him semi-awake, lying in shambles, trying to make sense of the mess he had been left with – Memories that weren't his (His father wasn't a weaponsmith, he had not killed a girl with pigtails and he had never attended the Arkanian Academy, nor worked for pirates.) overlapped with those that were. But they didn't make sense either.

His lightsaber was blue, not red, but there were several memories of him wielding that terrifyingly unstable weapon, killing people that he had trained and ate and bled with – But he also remembered seeing those same faces cheering for him on balconies, watching him fight his way through 25 training droids. Even more disturbing was the memory of Luke standing over him, ready to kill him – A stark contrast to the Luke that had cut his Padawan braid and told him how proud he was of him.

The timelines simply didn't match up – at all – and some of the things he had supposedly done made him nauseous.  
However, all those memories, in which he carried the red lightsaber with as much passion as the hatred burning through his entire body, were devoid of one thing: Armitage Organa-Solo, formerly Hux.

He knew that couldn't be right. The wedding, the fights, the pining, the heartbreak and the little moments of hope – Those were as real as the pain he was feeling right now. Those other memories didn't include him, at all. If they were true, Ben would have left the temple at least a year before his Trials were due, would have never returned home, and therefore never married him. But he did. He _knew_ he did.

So he clung to every single memory of Armitage like a lifeline. Those were the only ones that made sense even if almost none of them were happy.

Sometimes, he could hear voices, muffled and barely above whispers, but it wasn't like before: They weren't mysterious or menacing or seductive. Instead, they were familiar, one in particular quite aggravating, while another felt like the sweetest comfort.

Moaning and delirious, Ben tried to move but his mind immediately paralysed him with pain, so excruciating that he couldn't even scream, that he longed for release so badly that even death seemed preferable.

A very small, very quiet part of him was aware that someone was holding his hand but it was impossible to even remotely focus on that little bit of physical contact.

“...is burning up...”

“...won't make it...”

“...has to...”

“...fever down...”

“...sweating so much...”

“...will dehydrate before we even...”

“...Skywalker says...”

“...worth a try...”

Something was prodding his mind, seeking entrance, and even though it felt slightly familiar, all of him immediately panicked and shoved it away as hard as he possibly could. There was a muffled grunt of pain that wasn't his but he couldn't focus enough to even try to wonder whose it was. The voices were talking again, whispering hushed words that grated on his ears to the point of making him want to split his skull open.

“...not again-”

“...dangerous...”

“...have to do _something_...”

The ground shifted for a moment, dipping somewhere to his left, before something was cradling his head, fingers buried in his hair, gently pulling him towards something warm. Ben's body shifted towards it on pure instinct, beckoned by that sweet voice, by the worry and protectiveness in every softly whispered word, the comfort and affection in every stroke of a thumb on the back of his neck. There was a throbbing sensation on his skull but it was easy to ignore in favour of focusing on those soft puffs of breath caressing the sweat-damp skin of his forehead and hairline.

It was hard to coordinate his limbs when he finally got them to move enough to throw one arm over the source of that grounding warmth, pulling it even closer. There was a tiny gasp and a flare of discomfort but it was gone almost immediately after.

Ben's world zeroed in on this.

And his mind, desperately searching for something to cling to, latched unto another, finding shelter in it's orderly structure, it's bright vastness and intricate layers. Like a misty shadow, Ben slithered his way through empty corridors, brushing against doors, trying to find a crack to squeeze through but finding not a single gap. Desperation started to arise within him when finally, at the end of the hallway a single door slowly opened.

Ben didn't hesitate even for a second to rush inside.

The first thing he saw was himself.

He looked much younger, 16 at most, and thinner with shorter messy hair and loose, light Jedi robes – traditional, just like the ones Finn preferred to wear. There was no Padawan braid and the lightsaber hilt attached to his hip was silver and simple in design – definitely no crossguard. Ben had never looked quite like this, he was pretty sure of this. By the time he had reached that age, he had already preferred darker robes, though, at the time brown was the darkest colour he could get his hands on.

This Ben was standing in a beautiful, lush garden, his face soft and serene as he looked up to smile at an equally younger Armitage, dressed in the light grey uniform of a sergeant.

“Hux,” that strange version of Ben said, clearly happy to see the other man approaching, and immediately reached for his hands once they were close enough. “I was afraid you wouldn't come.”

“Don't be silly,” Armitage scoffed but his pale eyes were glittering and the corners of his mouth were slightly curled upwards. “I promised, I would. So, here I am.”

“And you're a man of your word,” Ben grinned, planting a little kiss on the other's knuckles before intertwining their fingers. “Everything is prepared. Just say the word and we'll leave.”

There wasn't even a breath of hesitation when Armitage whispered: “Yes. Let's go.”

Beaming, Ben pulled the other closer and lead him to an odd-looking little shuttle. Something about it seemed familiar, though, it wasn't until they were inside and he saw the antiquated design that he realised why. It was _The Lightroamer_ , the fictional battle shuttle Bac Barnes had flown in _Tales of a Jedi Knight_. Only then did he fully realise that this was a dream - And not a random one either. It felt familiar and warm and comforting, worn like a well-fitting glove. It was a daydream, consciously fabricated, carefully cultivated and often visited.

“Won't your uncle find us?” Armitage asked him when he took the co-pilot seat beside Ben in the cockpit. “We aren't supposed to be together before your trials.”

“I don't care,” Ben said as he flicked several switches and then turned to throw him a joyful, loving smile. “I'm attached to you.” A surge of happiness rippled through the dream and Armitage smiled back, putting his hand on Ben's lanky thigh. The robes were also inspired by Bac Barnes, he realised, as he noted how much thinner they made him look. The poor guy was drowning in all that white and brown fabric, which only added to the illusion of piety. “If being a Jedi means being kept away from you, I don't want it.”

“Being knighted was your dream ever since we first met,” Armitage protested, cheeks dusted pink, and looking guilty and horrified, but also secretly pleased.

“No,” Ben disagreed, turning to look at Armitage with dark, round eyes that looked both innocent and adoring. “That was my dream _until_ we first met.” His hand covered Armitage's over his thigh, making him grip the lean flesh harder. “ _You_ have been my dream since then.” Brown eyes flickered up and down, taking the other's body in. “And I can't wait another 5 years to finally have you.”

 _A shiver ran down Armitage's back, blood pooling in his groin_ _– There was longing and arousal, but also shame. Ben was chaste, devout and dutiful. The real one wouldn't prematurely leave the order to be with him. The real one decided to abide by the rule of attachment. The real one was pure and pious and far too young to be sexualised like that. But Armitage couldn't help it. Ever since he had seen that holopic, the tall, handsome teenage Ben wouldn't leave his head. He shouldn't think of him like that. He knew, he shouldn't, but since it was all in his head anyway, he didn't see the harm in indulging himself in that regard. And yet, he couldn't fight off the shame._

Shame – So much shame.

The dream broke off before anything untoward could happen, but it wasn't just because of guilt based on their 5 year age difference. There was also a sense of confusion, as if Armitage wouldn't even know how to continue that scenario. He didn't know which role to assign either of them, didn't know what Ben's most intimate parts might look like, didn't know what Ben liked or didn't like – or, for that matter, what _he_ would like.

_He only knew that he wanted him._

_Teenaged, gangly Ben with those ridiculous ears, that beautifully sloped nose and those dark, round eyes._

_He wanted him._

That grounding, comforting mind was wrenched out of Ben's grip and his soul was violently thrown back into his own body, helplessly trying not to drown in the searing pain running through it.

“...is waiting inside...”

“...too heavy...”

“...on the way...”

His body was manhandled and carried somewhere. Ben was too exhausted and agonised to even open his eyes, let alone try to defend himself, but he still felt himself starting to panic – Until a hand took his, that beautiful aura familiar already, comforting him and promising him that everything was going to be fine.

Another presence.

_Luke?_

_**Yes, Ben. I'm here.** _

The chaos finally stilled as he felt his uncle's soul laying itself over Ben's, soothing the frayed edges and working on putting all of his shattered pieces back together.

_**I need your help to do that, Ben.** _

_Can't you just heal me?_

_**Someone forced artificial memories into your head – You need to help me filter them out first.** _

_I can't make out which is what-_

_**Yes, you can. You know who you are and you know who you aren't.** _

_I'm Ben Skywalker._

There was a hint of amusement at the name, but also a sense of pride and so much love that he almost wanted to cry.

_**You are.** _

_I'm not Kylo Ren._

_**That's right. I know he scares you but you have to help me remove him.** _

_How?_

_**The tedious way, I'm afraid. We will have to sift through all of your memories.** _

_...all of them?_

_**There's no need for embarrassment.** _

_I'm not embarrassed._

_**You're scared. Why?** _

_You might see things that you won't like._

_**I see things that I don't like all the time.** _

_Things about_ me _._

_**I see things that I don't like about you all the time too. Your bat costumes for one.** _

_Haha._

_**You could also do with a haircut.** _

_I'm serious, Luke._

_**I know you are. Ben, you must know that there is nothing that could ever make me stop loving you.** _

_Nothing?_

_**Absolutely nothing.** _

When Ben met Luke for the first time in enough years to have completely forgotten everything about him except for some vague features and his name, he absolutely despised him.

His father had had to drag Ben out of the Millennium Falcon when they landed on a plain grassy field of Ahch-To, two days after his 11th birthday. A cloaked man was already waiting for them – Rather short but clearly athletic underneath the layers of white and brown linen, dark blonde hair neatly parted in the middle and combed back, blue eyes twinkling as they approached.

“Long time no see, kid,” his father shouted, prompting the other man to smile widely, making his face look really weird. The nose seemed slightly crooked in an unnatural way. Ben didn't like it.

“I'll turn 36 in a few weeks, you can't keep on calling me _kid_ ,” his uncle protested, laughing. Father shrugged with a roguish grin.

“You'll always be _kid_ to me.”

“Jeez, thank you.”

Then he turned to Ben, still smiling. There was a dimple on his chin. He wanted to punch it.

“Hello, Ben,” his uncle greeted him, slowly lowering himself to crouch before him. “You probably don't remember me. Last time I saw you, you were this tall.”

Indicating something around 3′10″, he cocked his head, waiting for an answer or a reaction that he absolutely refused to give.

“Hey, don't be rude, kid,” Han reprimanded him for his stubborn silence but the other man shook his head placatingly.

“No, it's alright,” he said with a soft voice, his gaze never leaving Ben's face, clearly unbothered by being glared at. “I'm sorry that I wasn't present for the last few years. You don't have to forgive me. But maybe you'll give me a chance to get to know you.”

Ben merely resumed glaring. That seemed to amuse the man which only made him angrier.

“I'll start, alright?” Still crouching, he held out a hand, blue eyes twinkling. He looked strangely boyish despite being so old. “I'm Luke Skywalker. And you are?”

Ben's eyebrows drew together in confusion and irritation.

“You know who I am.”

“Indulge me.”

“This is stupid.”

Wiggling his fingers, Luke smiled a little bit wider, making his face look _even weirder_.

Scoffing, he finally relented and took the warm, calloused hand.

“I'm Ben.”

_**I did actually ruin the right side face and my nose during the Galactic War. Bacta could only do so much to patch it up.** _

_Sorry for calling it weird._

_**It's alright. You're weren't wrong.** _

There was another memory. Luke mostly ignored him in that one. They got rid of it.

When Ben killed his first man during his second mission, he didn't feel bad or rattled at all. He felt powerful.

The body met the ground with a satisfying thump, the smell of scorched flesh crawling it's way into Ben's nose. It didn't make him nauseous. There wasn't much blood despite the hole in his chest – as per usual with lightsaber wounds, he came to learn with the years – which disappointed him a bit. Standing over the corpse, Ben felt himself trembling, staring at that lifeless face with the glassy dead eyes as it slowly lost colour.

“Ben, are you alright?” Luke asked him, breathing heavily from exertion as he came to a halt next to him, touching his shoulder. His gaze followed Ben's and there was a beat of silence. “It's alright. You were defending yourself. It's alright.”

His uncle repeated that sentence so many times, it sounded like a mantra. When Luke took him by the arm and pulled him away from the dead body, there was grief and worry and remorse coursing through the force. They didn't come from Ben. No, he carefully shut his emotions away, hid them from Luke and the other two padawans. If they knew that his body was trembling from a power rush instead of trauma, they would fear him even more than they already did.

“It's alright,” Luke repeated.

He wondered whether he was trying to comfort Ben or himself.

That memory was his.

…

_**Is that what you didn't want me to see?** _

_That wasn't Kylo Ren. That was me._

_**I know.** _

_I shouldn't enjoy killing people._

_**No, you shouldn't.** _

_But I do._

_**I know.** _

_You do?_

_**I've known for a while. Your emotional barrier has some room for improvement.** _

_Why did you never say anything?_

_**Would that have changed anything?** _

_No, but-_

_**Then I see no reason why I should have confronted you about it. It would have only made you feel bad.** _

_Doesn't feeling that way make me evil?_

_**I once told you that it is a mistake to believe that one could only be light or dark, remember?** _

_Was that your subtle way of telling me that it's okay to murder people?_

_**I have extinguished countless lives during the war. I'm a murderer, too. It would be quite hypocritical of me to fault you for that. Besides, you never killed anyone outside of a battle.** _

_No, but I still_ liked _it._

_**What difference does it make? I don't like killing people on missions but they end up dead either way, no matter how I feel about it. As long as you don't murder innocents for pleasure, I don't see the problem.** _

_It doesn't make me similar to... him?_

_**No, Ben. The difference between you and Kylo Ren, is, that you feel bad about liking it. That you restrain yourself because you care about right and wrong. He doesn't.** _

Luke trying to murder him – Discarded.

Ben killing padawans – Discarded.

Training with the Knights – Discarded.

Meeting the Knights – Discarded.

_I wasn't sure if that had been real or not._

_**You would have recognised Ap'lek in that bar if you had met him before. If not his face, then his force signature.** _

_Yes. You're right. I would have._

_**You're conflicted.** _

_It's just... I'm not sure if they know. That nothing of that was real._

_**Maybe they don't want to know.** _

_They love me._

_**No, Ben. They love** _ **Kylo Ren** **_. They love what that creature put inside their heads. Not you. They don't even know you._ **

_That... makes sense._

_**You're disappointed.** _

_It's just... I felt complete. When they connected to me._

_**They didn't connect to you. That wasn't the forging of a force bond, Ben. It was a form of essence transfer.** _

_Essence transfer?_

_**That creature created Kylo Ren – An entirely new soul. And it left pieces of that soul in all seven of you. By merging your minds as you did, those pieces were meant to come together and edge all that is** _ **Ben** **_aside. Kylo Ren was supposed to replace you. That is why you have such a hard time distinguishing which memories are yours without help._ **

_Is it still in me? That piece?_  
  
****

_**Yes. There must be a trigger somewhere in your mind. Ap'lek must have used it when your defences were down. It will lead us to the artificial soul piece once we find it. And we** _ **will** _**find it, don't you worry about that.** _

_Do you think they know?_

_**I can't know for sure but... I don't think so. I think they were tricked, just like you. I suspect that they were drawn to you because of those soul pieces.** _

_Maybe._

_**You're sad.** _

_It was nice to have brothers. If only for less than a day._

_**I'm sorry.** _

_I'm tired, Luke._

_**We still have much to do but I think you're stable enough to risk a break.** _

_Thank you._

The second Luke left his head, he fell asleep.

Fingers carded through his hair, slowly and gently, making him sigh with pleasure and crane his neck to push his head towards the affectionate touch. He felt warm and safe but also sore and confused when he opened his eyes with fluttering lids, finding that his lashes were sticky and that being confronted with light felt like someone was stabbing him in the eye with a saber. His sigh turned to a pained groan and he closed his eyes shut, slightly turning away from the source of his discomfort.

“Just a moment, I will close the blinds,” a voice whispered, the accent crisp and distinctively Arkanian.

Armitage.

The hand in his hair disappeared and he could feel the movement of another body on the mattress, the slight uplift as it was freed of some considerable weight. A moment later, the light was much dimmer, coming in as thin non-invasive streaks, and once his eyes didn't feel like they would burn up at the slightest exposure, he pried them open once more.

His husband was getting back into bed with him, crawling towards him without any of his usual gravitas, his face openly showing both concern and a timidness that he had never seen on him before. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, only emphasized by his ashen complexion, and to Ben's utter shock, he was letting his red limp hair falling gracelessly into his forehead, making him look dishevelled and just... human.

“Are you alright?” Armitage asked him, appearing strangely shy. “Shall I get you water or food or-”

“No,” Ben rasped and he winced at the roughness of his own voice. His throat hurt as if he had been screaming for days – And maybe he had been. His husband merely nodded at that and wasn't sure how to proceed, not used to feeling out of his depth like that.

Wait.

“What?” Armitage asked him, immediately worried when he noticed the way Ben was suddenly staring at him. “What is it?”

“Your mind barrier,” he breathed, both shocked and in awe, his heartbeat quickening when he immediately felt the other man's aura constricting with nerves and fear of exposing himself like that. He didn't close off, though.

“Yes, well...” he muttered and Ben felt himself smile a little bit when he saw those unattractive and yet entirely endearing red blotches starting to take over his face and neck. “I have recently been made aware of the... _effects_ that my mental shielding has on you.”

“The _effects_ ,” Ben repeated, feeling incredibly amused but mostly hopeful.

“I didn't know,” Armitage said and the heaviness of his words quickly sobered him up. “that it was distressing you. Despite all of my efforts to understand the force, I failed to realise that you rely on it to- to connect. That you need those mental ties to ground you. I deprived you of that security.”

For a long moment, Ben didn't know what to say. Never in a million years would he have expected his husband to apologise for that – or anything, really. He also wouldn't have expected him to lay down by his side, sporting nothing but a short-sleeved shirt, underwear and the most adorable bedhead, all the while looking at him with not a small amount of trepidation. It seemed like he expected to be criticised or reprimanded for... something. He had no idea what it was that he thought Ben would say to that. Nothing good, apparently. It made his heart sink.

“I also wanted to apologise for my behaviour on Coruscant,” he continued quickly when Ben opened his mouth, his gaze nervously flickering between his chin and something behind him. “What I said in the cab. I didn't mean it.” It was a lie. “Well, I did. But it had nothing to do with you. Or, rather, not exclusively. I don't trust people with my thoughts and feelings.”

“You're afraid.”

For a second, it was like they were back in that taxi – Armitage's face looked tense and he could _feel_ that he wanted to deny it, that he wanted to tell him that he _wasn't_ , that he _didn't feel_. But they both knew that it would be a lie, and a poor one, too, since his aura was vibrating with it. Ben still couldn't believe that he was being trusted with this. That Armitage _allowed_ this.

No answer was forthcoming. It wasn't needed.

Taking a shaky breath in, Ben tried to catch those pale, shame-filled eyes. When he did, he whispered: “I won't hurt you.”

There was a beat of silence, the tension between them thickening. The fear was still there.

“It would hardly be the first time,” Armitage finally answered, his voice sounding as cold and dismissive as usual. His aura betrayed him, though. It felt vulnerable.

_I have to marry you. So, I can't be a Jedi._

_A padawan can't afford any distractions._

_**Stop.** _

_None of your business._

_After all, his wife isn't your mother, is she?_

_**I said, don't touch me!** _

_Go before I **make** you._

_Wouldn't I know._

_We can't even talk to each other-_

It was strange to hear his own voice in another person's head like that. Even stranger to feel the effect his words had on said person. Some of them, he could barely remember uttering but there they were – And he recognised the situations, let them repeat inside his head, but they felt completely different now that he had a vague idea of what it felt like to be on the other side of the conversation. Some hadn't been intended to come across the way they had, but most had been him lashing out and wallowing inside his own hurt, not expecting Armitage to even care since his face never changed, seemingly unmoved and unbothered, his aura out of reach. Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten that his husband was human.

Maybe, it hadn't been Armitage trying to seem like a _soulless robot_ – Maybe it had been Ben who wanted to see him as one.

“No,” Ben whispered, deeply ashamed of himself – Especially, of his egocentrism and unwillingness to put any sort of effort into trying to understand his husband like any other force-null person would have to do. “You're right. It wouldn't be.”

“We're not very good at this whole marriage business, are we?”

There was the tiniest hint of humour laced into those words, cushioning the sting of the reminder that _yes_ , they kriffing _sucked_ at this.

“We're really not,” Ben agreed with a small huff, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards even though his chest was hurting from realising how different this whole thing could have gone if he hadn't been such an idiot. Sure, they probably wouldn't have ever ridden into the sunrise, bursting into a song about falling in love at first sight, but still. They could have been friends, at least.

“Sometimes, I wanted to kill you,” Armitage confessed and it hit him like a punch to the gut when there was nothing but honesty coming off of him. “It would have freed me of you without risking war.”

He couldn't even pretend that those words didn't hurt, but at the same time, he understood the sentiment. Armitage was a ruthless military man and he should have expected his thoughts to have drifted that way at some point or another. Force knew that Ben had deserved to be shot at numerous occasions. His voice was surprisingly steady when he said: “You should have.”

“I don't know why I didn't.” A lie. “My life would be a lot easier if you were dead.”

“You had the opportunity to be rid of me,” Ben murmured, feeling both too hot and too cold. “Instead, you came after me.”

It had been Armitage's decision to chase after him. He didn't need to read anybody's mind to know that. Anyone else would have contacted Luke and his parents and would have had them deal with him being abducted by unknown and clearly dangerous force-users, standing back and hoping for the best. But Armitage decided to take the risk and face the danger himself – He had looked like an actual soldier for the first time since he had known him; red hair mussed and sandy, his face protected by a scarf, dark sleeves rolled up to his elbows and with a rifle in hand.

When his gaze lowered to Armitage's arms, he could still see the pinkish hue of a sunburn, the damaged skin peeling slightly in some areas.

His memories of _Moraband_ were fuzzy at best, but seeing the evidence made if feel eerily real.

“I did,” Armitage finally answered, gaze directed at his chin. He was nervous.

“Thank you,” Ben breathed, unable to keep his voice from sounding weak and shaky. “You saved me. You saved me even though you don't even like me.”

Pale eyes met his. There was turmoil in the force: Fear, pride and... something else. Something, he didn't dare to put a name to.

Slowly, as if he was a skittish animal that Armitage didn't want to scare off, he lifted his hand, reaching for him. Ben held perfectly still when he felt the other's fingertips gently touching his temple, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. It was only then that he noticed the smell of his own sweat and unwashed hair and it reminded him of their reintroduction in the temple. He had been a reeking mess and it had delighted him to see his fiancé wrinkling his nose at him. This time, he didn't seem to mind at all.

“I do, though,” he whispered and hesitantly cradled his cheek with his warm, slender hand, making his heart skip a beat. “I do like you.”

His mind went fuzzy for a second.

The next moment Armitage's lips were on his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else screaming 'FINALLY'? 
> 
> Funfact: Mark Hamill did actually have a car accident after filming Episode IV, which is why he looks so very different in the following movies!
> 
> This is how he looked like in that little flashback: https://external-preview.redd.it/SG1_Hzq1dwnsJ6CHMt6AIDHWjhE_mIOdLY4NnhfxNUE.jpg?auto=webp&s=92967f47531945ce94aea9609aedcec14e8628a1
> 
> And this is roughly what daydream!Ben looked like: https://i.pinimg.com/474x/55/50/e6/5550e6845b1b5e116fdb324ec6219ace.jpg
> 
> P.S.: Don't forget about she-who-must-not-be-named, though.


	22. What about a hit of your love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, whoever-still-stuck-around after all this time!  
> First of all, I want to apologise for the extremely long wait and the equally extreme brevity of this "chapter". Secondly, I want to thank every one who is still here and especially all of you that expressed worry about my health and well-being. I feel that I owe you all an explanation for my sudden and prolonged disappearance.  
> I started this fic right after a girl I was head over heels for broke up with me for lack of feelings on her part. Keeping busy with school, work and writing this had pretty much worked as a means to not deal with my feelings. When the Corona-stuff started, I suffered from an eye-infection that forced me to literally do nothing since any sort of light was beyond painful. It lasted for about 3 weeks of being trapped in my head which was enough for me to finally fall into a deep pit of post-break up depression. So, even after I could bear to look at any screen again, one can imagine that it was hard for me to get in the mood to write something even slightly romantic - which is where last chapter ended off at.  
> Plus, it was actually my ex that got me to like Adam Driver and therefore find Kylux (by myself, she wasn't the fanfiction/shipper sort of person) - I used to consider him ugly, which I later realised was because we acutally look very alike from certain angles (especially in profile). It was actually the reason why my ex developed an interest in me in the first place. So that also weighed on me once I actually started to process the break up.  
> However, I do want to finish this and I think I'm at a point where I can resume with it. This "chapter" is super fucking short, but I needed to get this scene - which I had been struggling with for months - done and over with. Also, I wanted to test the waters to see who's even still interested in reading this haha  
> So, enjoy the 970 words of desperation and see you next chapter!

Yearning.

Underneath all of that fear, the misery and the anger – There was yearning.

Dry, chapped lips were pressed against his own in an awkward angle, the unshaven skin around their mouths feeling scratchy and uncomfortable despite their lack of movement. If seeing and feeling Armitage's scruffy state had been a shock to his system, he had been entirely unprepared for the smell of morning breath and the taste of a man's mouth after at least a day or two of worry-induced fasting.

Ben tasted and smelled so much worse.

And yet.

When his husband slowly withdrew, both their eyes fluttering open to look at each other, something between them had shifted.

He felt vulnerable. Exposed. Scared.

They both did.

And _yet_.

There was a certain nervousness in the way Armitage's blue eyes seemed to scan his face, hopefulness battling his suffocating fear of being rejected. For a second, Ben had forgotten that Armitage couldn't feel what he felt, that he was force-null and, therefore, incapable of having the kind of emotionally synchronized and balanced relationship that he had experienced with Rey for years. Whatever they were now, whatever this was, evidentally, it was going be completely different and much more difficult than anything either of them was used to.

Ben wanted to make the effort.

Starting right now.

Armitage's slim body felt warm and foreign in his arms as he encircled his trim waist and pulled him towards his much larger body, letting their mouths crash into one another in the absolute worst and yet most wonderful kiss he had ever shared with anybody. The slightly sweaty hand cradling Ben's cheek slid into the unwashed mess that was his hair as their mouths moved and began to open, seeking friction as much as each other's taste.

It was raw. It was disgusting. It was beautiful.

The breath they shared was hot, their tongues brushing each other and making them shudder at the sensation. Electrifying was the slide of their skin as he felt Armitage's naked leg on his own, the weight and heat of his thigh coming to rest on top of his hip, seeking to close all and any gaps between their bodies. When Ben grabbed the supple flesh to pull him even closer, a moan left Armitage's throat, making arousal course through his veins like wildfire.

A surge of energy went through him in the form of desire as he rolled on top of his husband, their mouths interlocked as long, slim legs shakily parted to welcome him between them. One of Armitage's hands was still buried in his hair while the other sought purchase on the wide plane of Ben's shoulderblade, scrunching up the sweat-damp fabric of his shirt between his fingers. A breath of air ghosted over his lips when they broke the kiss, just for a second, long enough for him to hear his name whispered with something akin to reverence or maybe disbelief.

When he dove back in for another taste of those lips, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame his body.

“Ben,” Armitage said, though, this time he sounded concerned instead of aroused. “Ben, are you-”

Groaning with pain as he felt his head throb, he let his forehead rest in the warm crook of his husband's neck, his body going a bit slack in exhaustion. The dizziness dissipated after a few heartbeats, though it didn't disappear completely before he tried to get their act of intimacy back on track, kissing along the column of his pale throat.

Armitage, being Armitage, of course pulled the plug at this point.

“Ben,” he tried again, his voice sounding much stricter as he pushed at him to try and get him to roll off of him, “as much as I would like to continue, you are in no state for any of this.”

Feeling and acting like a child who had just been robbed of his new toy, he couldn't hold back a little whine as he refused to budge on his position between Armitage's legs.

  
“But I _want_ you.”

To emphasize his point, he rolled his hip against his husband's, grinding both of their erections against one another and grinning smugly when the hot drag of fabric against flesh made Armitage gasp a little bit. He could feel the waves of lust coming off of the body underneath him – But it quickly made way for the sharp, unpleasant edge of _concern_.

“ _No._ ”

Recognizing a lost cause for what it was, Ben sighed and finally forced himself to fall back on his back.

Not without taking his husband with him, though.

“Ben!” he half-shrieked, half-laughed while simultaneously trying to look like he _wasn't_ still at least somewhat horny and, most shockingly, _happy_ as he found himself sitting on his hipbone. The blue of his eyes had never seemed quite as soft as it did when their gazes met.

At still feeling arousal throbbing in both their veins, his lips stretched into a slow, predatory grin.

“You know, you could still-” he started to suggest but was quickly cut off with a resolute: “ _No_.”  
  


Amused, Ben couldn't help but huff in mock-offense.

“You don't even know what I was going to say.”

  
  
“I think I can imagine and the answer is _no_.”

“But you want to,” Ben insisted, though he was being more playful than serious at this point. “And you _like_ me.”

“I knew telling you that was a mistake.”

  
  
“The truth can never be a mistake.”

  
  
“And yet, I am starting to regret it.”

  
  
“No, you're not. I can feel that you're not.”

There was a slight pause and a bit of the humour faded out of the bright, warm aura surrounding Armitage.

“No,” he confirmed as he slowly tipped forward, breathing the lightest of kisses against his moth. “No, I'm not.”


	23. We'll be happy over time, thank fuck for our decline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took me a bit but I'm actually really proud that I made it! Especially since this turned out pretty fluffy (compared to what I usually put these two through lmao)!  
> My heart feels a bit healed after binge-watching a Chinese historical political drama with almost zero romance in it. If any of you is interested in seeing the fight for the title of Crown Prince between three very differrent sons and extremely brilliant scheming and manipulation by a cheeky, but elegant scholar inside the Emperor's court, I recommed "Nirvana in Fire". Chinese fighting scenes are pretty cringy to me, but everything else was divine and not having some romance thrown in my face really helped me distract myself and charge my fluff batteries which lead to this chapter.  
> Enjoy!

For the next few hours, Ben drifted in and out sleep, feeling increasingly feverish as time went on. Armitage was there with him, forcing him to drink and eat with all the tenderness and gentleness of an angry bantha. It reminded him of the time after his podracing accident – Though, back then he had thought Armitage's poor bedside manner and unique way of nursing him to health by ordering him around like a lowly lieutenant was a sign of his contempt towards him.

Now, he knew that this was simply how Armitage _did_ things. That he felt great satisfaction and affection whenever he watched Ben gobble down whatever was on his plate, complying all his little orders that were not meant to irritate him but to help him feel better. He could feel his concern whenever Ben initially refused to drink, the relief when his temperature hadn't risen further and the joy of being helpful, of being _needed_.

With Armitage's barrier gone, a whole new world had opened up to Ben. And it was beautiful.

“You're a lovely nurse,” Ben told him teasingly as he watched Armitage checking his temperature again – Thankfully, it was almost back to normal – and grinned when his spouse's cheeks immediately reddened with embarrassment. It was especially noticeable with the ginger stubble gone, his face as clean-shaven as always.

“I am _not_ 'lovely',” he immediately protested, _bristled_ even, deeply rooted insecurities kicking in immediately, rejecting being called anything but a General, a man of the military, a soldier, a- “Nor am I a _nurse_.”

“No?” Ben asked, first amused and then alarmed at how quickly Armitage's mind was starting to close up again- “What are you doing then?”  
  


“I'm making sure that you don't wither away in your sleep, you big smelly oaf.”  
  
“There is a word for that, you know. It's called _nursing_.”

The frown on Armitage's face almost looked painful, red blotches of embarrassment and anger covering his face and neck as he stared at Ben, unmoving, his thoughts carefully tucked away.

Okay.

Now he was really worried.

  
Ben forced himself to sit up despite his sore body's protests, not breaking eye contact with his husband for even a second. There was something terrifying lurking behind that dead look in his blue eyes – Something so painful that it made both their hands shaky and sweaty as Ben reached for his husband, interlacing their clammy fingers awkwardly. Armitage's gaze flickered downwards, to their joint hands, for all but a second before he tried to remove himself from whatever was happening here, making to stand up.

“Armitage,” Ben said, a little panicked, almost pleadingly, squeezing the hand in his. “Talk to me.”

He hesitated, lips pressing into a thin, unhappy line, before he sat down again, eyes staring at the floor.

“Can't you just pluck it out of my head if you're so interested?”  
  


“I could,” he confirmed, slowly, brows drawing together as he saw him tense up immediately. “But I won't. Not without your permission.”

There was a long moment of silence in which Armitage seemed to contemplate something, keeping Ben shut out of his head. It was an unpleasant, disorienting feeling after having clung to his mind for days to keep his sanity, but this wasn't about him. Of course, he had known that Armitage's life had probably been miserable more often than not what with that horrible family of his – However, he had never really thought about what that misery might have looked like. And what it had done to him and the way he interacted with the world.

Horrifying things if the haunted look on his face was anything to go by.

Feeling guilt over having triggered such a state and having teased him even after he had seen that his husband was uncomfortable with being called a _nurse_ , he decided to drop the topic.

“I'm sorry. You don't have to-”

“Soft,” Armitage said, interrupting him and squeezing his fingers between the gaps of his own. “You make me _soft_.”

The word was spat as if it were venom in his mouth, lips curling downwards. There was the phantom pain of being beaten, echoes of yelling, the memory of tears being shed, of loss and humiliation. Ben flinched violently at the onslaught of suffering that hit him like a blaster shot, the second Armitage's barrier opened again, letting him in.

Ginger fur, the death of happiness, a cruel lesson – It crashed in on Ben, all at once.

“I had found her in an alley when I was 15. She was looking for food in the trash,” he told him, his voice cold and seemingly detached while his chest felt two seconds away from either exploding or crumbling to pieces. “I had never seen such a skinny cat before in my entire life. Pitiful and pathetic.”  
  
 _She reminded me of myself_.

There was the voice of the Emperor, calling him _thin_ and _useless_ , there were blue eyes, those of his father and those of the small Arkanian Nibelcat, her ginger fur the same colour as his hair. Compassion. A yearning for love. Soft fur and small paws, a rough tongue licking his chin as he cradled the creature against his chest, bringing it back home.

“Millicent,” Ben whispered, unintentionally making the sleepy wolf-cat on the empty side of the bed lift her head at the mention of her name. “After your mother.”

_The real one_.

There was a small glimpse of a woman – Tall, fiery hair, the saddest green eyes he had ever seen – until it was wretched away and hidden, out of Ben's grasp. He didn't even try to hold onto it. Ben only wanted to see what Armitage would allow him to see.

“I saved her. Washed her. Fed her.”

_Nursed her_.

She was a secret. Admiral Brendol Hux didn't like pets. Animals were beneath him.

“Your father found out about her,” Ben concluded even before he was shown or told. Armitage nodded.

“My brother had seen her in my room and snitched on me.”

Of course, he had. Ben's mood dropped even further at the mere thought of that bastard's smug, sharply featured face. Armitage's hatred towards his brother was astronomical in size and though he had always known that there was little love lost between them, it was only now that he felt and recognized _how_ bad that animosity was. And why.

The burning sensation of hatred subsided, making way for pain, betrayal and loss.

He knew before Armitage even opened his mouth.

“Father killed her,” he said, desperately trying to keep all emotion out of his voice and surprisingly also succeeding in doing so. Armitage was frighteningly well trained in that regard. “He ordered me to do it first but I wouldn't do it. I couldn't.” _Because I loved her_. “So, he slit her throat right in front of me and then made me throw her body back into the trash I had found her in.”

  
 _It's where the weak belong_.

For a second the desire to stand up, get into a shuttle and assassinate the Emperor with his bare hands, was so strong that Ben nearly made to actually leave the bed – The only thing keeping him from doing exactly that (beside the dizziness and how weak he felt), was the clammy hand holding onto his own. Armitage didn't look at him, kept his body twisted away from him – But his fingers sought Ben's strength and warmth, needing him as an anchor to keep himself from falling back into those memories.

“He mocked me for caring,” Armitage continued. “For being soft. Asked me whether I was a soldier or a _karking nurse_.”

Ben didn't know what to say. So, instead, he tugged at the hand in his and – when Armitage tried to get away – wrestled him into a tight, awkward side-hug. Admittedly, Ben had never been good at comforting anyone and he was afraid of worsening the situation with his pitiful attempt at making him feel better. Rey had liked being held by him, her tiny body folded against his big one, making her feel like he was hiding her away from everything that might hurt her. But Armitage wasn't Rey – He wasn't even remotely similar to her. For a long moment, his husband remained stiff as a board, his mind closed up. Feeling useless and stupid, he almost let go of him before, _finally_ , Armitage positively melted into the embrace.

Shame seemed to be an ever-present passenger in the back of Armitage's head, mixed into the cocktail of relief, safety and the need to _trust_. Ben didn't know how to make the shame go away. So, he just held him, burying his nose into clean, soft hair, feeling warm puffs of air graze the skin of his neck and rubbing the long curve of his husband's back over the soft fabric of his regulation undershirt.

When Armitage pulled away, he let him.

His face was still a little bit red, as were his eyes, but he quickly composed both his facial features and his posture.

“Well, this has been sufficiently embarrassing.”

Ben didn't think it was embarrassing at all, but he was pretty sure that his husband really didn't want him to say anything of the like.

“And I think it is prudent that I draw you a bath,” he continued, not really looking at him as he stood up, pretending to dust off his shirt. “You seem well enough to leave the bed for as long as it will take to get all that grime off of you.”

At that, he couldn't help but make a face since he was so filthy that he could barely stand it himself at this point.

“That sounds like a good idea,” he said but Armitage had already disappeared behind the bathroom door.

This was definitely not how he would have predicted this morning to go.

Listening to the sound of running water and his husband's footsteps, he wondered whether he should have dropped the nurse thing the second he noticed how uncomfortable it had made Armitage. Obviously, he couldn't have known what kind of associations he had with the word, but he shouldn't have pressed the issue. Though, in a way, he was happy that it led to him opening up a bit. As infuriating and miserable as the story of the original Millicent was, it meant a lot that Armitage had decided to share that memory with him.

But still. Getting to know one's husband better shouldn't happen at the expense of said man's traumas.

Finding out how to talk to and act around Armitage was going to be a lot harder than initially expected, he came to realise. There was a fine line between forcing someone to open up and simply encourage them to do so – A line he had never learned to walk. And maybe he should have shared something of his own, just to even the playground. It might or might not help with the unnecessary sense of shame if he knew that Ben was damaged as well. Though, he didn't know what he could have told him. He had never experienced the kind of intentional, systematic cruelty that Armitage had been a victim of in the hands of his own father.

Ben was at a loss.

“Let's get you in there while it's still hot,” his husband said as he returned to the bedroom and, thankfully, helped him stand up without awkwardly asking for permission to touch him. The less they had to acknowledge the way Ben's body could barely hold itself up, let alone hoist itself out of bed, the better. Despite trying not to burden the other man with his entire weight, he could see Armitage struggle a little bit once he was finally standing, his arm slung around the other's shoulder, stumbling along as he was half-dragged to the bathtub.

“This really isn't how I would have liked this to go,” Ben commented, half-joking, half-serious, as he sat on the very edge of the tub, arms raised in order to make it easier for his husband to strip him of his shirt. A lovely flush spread from Armitage's pale, long neck to his cheeks as he scoffed at the comment, shaking his head.

“Believe me, the feeling is entirely mutual.”  
  


Ben, being an idiot who never learned from past mistakes, immediately went back to teasing once his shirt was gone: “So you _have_ thought about undressing me before.”

There was a long-suffering sigh, as well as even redder cheeks, but thankfully no trauma-related reaction was forthcoming, even when long fingers hooked into his waistband.

“Yes, Ben,” he answered to both of their surprise, still shaking his head as if he couldn't believe that he was actually having this conversation right now. “I have thought about undressing you before.”

With that, his pants and underwear were pushed down and left to pool around his ankles.

The silence that issued was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Mostly terrifying.

Armitage's gaze was stuck on Ben's exposed dick for such a long time that his pride about the impressive length and girth of his member slowly started be replaced by worry and self-doubt. Rey had been shocked at seeing his genitals, too, he remembered, but that situation had still felt much different than this: Rey wasn't a man, after all. Armitage was. A much older, much more experienced one at that.

Ben didn't know how to read either the silence or the cocktail of mostly negative emotions dimly emitting from him.

“Is it that bad?” he couldn't help but ask but immediately regretted it when that made the overall situation even more awkward and embarrassing for the both of them. Armitage didn't look like he was particularly inclined to answer but felt like he now _had_ to reply. There was a tiny and utterly unconvincing shake of his head.

“It's not-” A deep frown, eyes averting to stare at a random point over Ben's shoulder. “It's not that it's _bad_.”

“What then?”

“Just,” he started, clearly uncomfortable. “The hair.”

What?

“The hair?” Ben repeated, clearly confused, looking down to look at his pubes. “What's wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” he quickly blurted out and even raised his hands a bit as if to stop the influx of questions he didn't want to answer. “It's not- I mean, you're also... I didn't expect it. To look like that. In general.”

Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, he almost wanted to cup his genitals to hide them away but refrained from doing so since the damage was already done. Armitage also visibly struggled with keeping his gaze from straying downwards, and since Ben felt childish right now, he relished in not suffering alone from the sheer embarrassment of the situation.

“What did you expect it to look like?” he pressed because he was equally as big of a dick as his dick, causing Armitage to frown and shake his head.

“Just get in the karking water, you nerfherder.”

“You're deflecting,” Ben pointed out, still operating on dick-mode. “And also cursing.”

“And you're sulking because I didn't fall unto my knees to sing my praises for your weird cock.” Insulted, Ben went to open his mouth but was swiftly cut off. “Water. Now.”

Scoffing, he obediently did as he was told, though he couldn't help byt draw his knees in more than strictly necessary, in a superfluous attempt to hide his poor dick from his husband's judgemental gaze.

Superfluous, because Armitage was already on his way out of the bathroom.

“Are you just leaving me here?” Ben blurted out, sounding even sulkier if that was at all possible. His husband stopped in his tracks and turned around, feeling embarrassed and defensive once more because apparently Ben was incapable of walking the fragile line between teasing and initiating a fight. Not that Armitage was any better.

“I wasn't aware that you needed me for this part.”

He probably didn't.

“Well, I'm still feeling a bit dizzy,” Ben said nevertheless, just because. “I could drown if you leave me by myself.”

“You're not an infant, Ben.”

“You call me an infant all the time. Which is it now?”  
  


Armitage clearly didn't buy his bantha crap, but all he did was sigh and rub his temple with his ring finger. There was a hint of amusement in the force around him, too, and Ben latched unto it like a dying man.

“See that?” he asked while lowering himself into the water until his chin was dipping into it. “I'm slipping!”

“You barely fit into the tub, there is literally no way you could-”

“Is that a challenge?”

“For kark's sake, _fine_!”

Beaming, Ben sat up again, water splashing over the bathtub a bit from the movement. Armitage stared at him for a long two seconds, his emotions carefully tucked away for as long as it took him to shake his head and grab himself a stool. As he sat down, Ben finally started scrubbing himself with some plain soap, the water quickly layering up with a thin coat of foam.

The silence was as awkward as peaceful.

That is until Armitage stood up, took the stool and placed it somewhere behind Ben.

“Where are you going?” he asked but by then, he was already out the door. Before he could sulk, however, he was back and sitting down while holding a small jug. “What's this for?”

“Just sit up a bit, will you?” He did. “Good. Now tip your head back.”

Next thing he knew, Armitage was pouring soapy water over his hair. A hand came to touch it, holding it this and that way to not leave any dry spots as he refilled the jug several times to wet every single lock. Closing his eyes, Ben had to fight the urge to lie back. One or two teasing words crossed his mind but he kept them to himself, deciding not to break the fragile peace of this rare, tender moment.

When his hair was sufficiently wet, he could hear Armitage stand up for a moment but once he was back, he could feel both of his hands on his scalp and smell a masculine, rich scent that he found to be vaguely familiar but couldn't quite place.

“I know that smell,” he whispered, not daring to speak loudly or harshly.

With an amused snort Armitage quickly answered: “Of course you do. It's my hair soap.”

“I like it.”

And he liked the tender head massage even more but he refrained from mentioning it.

“It's the only luxury I allow myself. As you probably know, I don't usually enjoy fancies,” he told him, his voice uncharacteristically soft and relaxed. “I was raised with a quite minimalistic mindset.”

Ben thought about the Emperor still wearing his Military uniforms instead of Noble Gowns to show off his status. He could very well imagine how Armitage's way of thinking was shaped by a man like that. But he could also relate.

“I'm quite similar,” Ben said, tipping his head back even more when he felt Armitage work the foam to the ends of his hair. “I used to have all that stuff as a child until they sent me off to the Temple. Suddenly, I didn't have anything. I complained a lot in the beginning but after a while I didn't miss any of that anymore. Luke always had a way of making me realise what's important and what isn't.”

“He is a very wise man.” Water was poured over his hair, washing the soap away. “And he loves you very much.”

“Luke treats me like a son,” he murmured, remembering how it felt to grow up with such commitment, tenderness and compassion towards him. Sure, Luke had been strict when appropriate, but all in all, Ben had always felt loved and prioritised by him, even when all the other students came along. It was the polar opposite of what he had experienced when he still lived at the Palace. “He is a much better parent than Han and mother combined.”

A flash of envy. Anger. Sadness.

“Your parents love you,” Armitage said, his voice much harder and colder than before. “They love you even when you treat them badly.”  
  
Ben could feel his temper flare up for a moment, wanted to scream and throw something, wanted to shout _Who treats whom badly?_

But he was tired of being angry. Tired of fighting.

“I know that they love with me,” he said instead of all the things he wanted to shout. “But they weren't good parents. Ever. They dumped me at the Temple and let Luke do all the hard work of raising a child. We were hardly in contact for a decade. That's not being a parent.”

Armitage wanted to fight him for a moment – He could feel it – but then there was a long moment of calculated silence. Of thinking. Of understanding.

“You were dumped at the Temple,” Armitage said, almost wistfully, working the foam over his shoulderblades and down his spine a bit. “I was dumped at the Academy.”

_But no one cared about me there_.

“Now, that's not true,” Ben interjected, making his husband pause.

“I wasn't dumped at the Academy?” he scoffed, feathers clearly ruffled and ready to argue once more.

“No, you were. But it's not true that no one cared about you.”

“I thought you would refrain from reading my thoughts without permission.”

“I _heard_ what you projected at me. Loudly, if I might add.”

“Then, please enlighten me on who cared about me. I'm _dying_ to know.”

“Phasma.”

There was a heavy moment of almost shocked silence. Armitage's hands disappeared. Ben turned around as far as he could to look at his husband who, in turn, met his gaze. He looked vulnerable. Confused. Conscience-stricken.

“She is very protective of you, you know,” Ben told him when the silence only stretched on. “If looks could kill, I would have died several horrifying deaths during her visits. Force knows what you told her about me.” A look of sheepishness and some guilt crossed Armitage's features at that. “It's okay. I treated you terribly.”

“Well, I wasn't a stellar example of a husband, either.”

“Hence why we make such a good pair, don't you think?”

A small smile grazed Armitage's lips which still looked a bit dry but had returned to their lovely pink colour in the last few days. It looked so beautiful, Ben couldn't help himself when he tried to stretch as far as he could to catch that mouth in a kiss.

Sadly, he leaned back and away.

“Not before you wash the taste of rotten eggs out of your mouth, you scruffy bantha.”

Despite his disappointment, Ben couldn't help but laugh.

Armitage threw a towel over his head.

They were trying.


End file.
